


Where Butterflies Never Die

by SangoChan2



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:11:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 52,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SangoChan2/pseuds/SangoChan2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Until a dwarf came and changed everything...</p><p>a companion to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/694210/chapters/1276648">Don't Ask Me Why</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Doubt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sra_danvers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sra_danvers/gifts).



> This is a Bilbo/Thorin version of [Don't Ask Me Why](http://archiveofourown.org/works/694210/chapters/1276648). If you haven't read it, please check it out first. This one will probably make much more sense after that... :)

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 1 - Doubt

Bilbo was sitting on a fallen tree, waiting patiently for Ori to finish the drawing of him. The sun was setting, laying its orange veil over Rivendell behind him, making it even more beautiful than he ever imagined.

This was what he wanted, this was one of the reasons why he joined Thorin’s company. To see the elves, to hear their songs... So why did nothing of it bring any peace or happiness to him now?

His eyes found Thorin again where he was sitting on one of the rocks down by the stream. He was gazing to the west, just like he did every evening ever since Bilbo met him, his face full of sorrow...

He was the reason... The king was the reason why there seemed to be no more joy in the hobbit’s life, without even knowing it...

...

Bilbo should have known though. Right that morning when Gandalf surprised him in front of Bag End. He should have known that the day was yet to bring something unexpected...

But he still thought it wasn’t such a bad day in the beginning. He had to go and cheer himself up after Gandalf left, so he went to the market and bought all the deliciously looking raspberries he could find, right before Lobelia arrived and realized there were no more left for her. Bilbo chuckled, he so enjoyed that expression on her face when she found out; it was a wonderful noon indeed.

And then he made a tasty lunch, had a nap, baked a raspberry cake and made tea... But then the evening came and it changed everything.

First of all it ended with his precious pantry being all empty. Not short of cheese, nor short of ham or cakes. No. Empty. He had never seen it empty before. Not even during those times when all his relatives visited...

And then all the dwarves seemed to think that he would want to become a burglar and go on a quest with them! A quest that somehow included a dragon! Why, he was a hobbit, not an adventurer! What a silly thought... him in strange lands, full of danger, vicious creatures, dirt, hunger, diseases... full of new, wonderful and unknown things, noble cities, and elves, and magic...

He was so exhausted and confused after reading the contract that he went to his bedroom and flopped himself on the bed. And he was mighty hungry, too. Why, the big one... what was his name? Dwalin... he had eaten his lovely fish and Bilbo didn’t have anything to eat since the first dinner.

He got up again when he heard voices right behind his bedroom door.

One of them was Balin’s. He was pleasant enough for a dwarf, Bilbo had to admit that. But the rest of the lot was just a bunch of noisy, ill-mannered, savage, brute, hungry-

'- when I called upon them, they answered...'

-dwarves...

That was the king’s voice. Thorin’s. A sudden shiver ran through Bilbo’s body and he couldn’t explain why...

Well, the king was very charismatic. Bilbo had eyes, he could see that. Thorin was one strong enough to inspire and lead. Such a man could make hundreds, thousands of men to follow him anywhere, to die for him.

He felt it too, the moment he looked at the king. He was so busy fussing about an alleged mark on his beautiful door that he didn’t even notice the last dwarf when he entered. But he saw, as Gandalf introduced them, that the others held a deep respect for Thorin and as he himself looked into Thorin‘s eyes... yes, he felt it too...

The feeling that in front of him was someone with an immense inner power. That strange feeling of meeting someone who could become so important to one, that he would be willing lay his life for him... It was the most unusual thing that has ever happened to him...

At least until the king called him a grocer... Why, with an attitude like that, how could he possibly expect a respectable hobbit like Mr. Baggins to join his company? As if Bilbo didn’t have anything better to do! He did. Of course he did. There was... ehm... old Took’s birthday party right that Friday! And the market in Bree a week after that. He couldn’t miss that, his turnips had a great chance to win the first prize this year. Well, like he said, he couldn’t go on an adventure even if he wanted to. Which he certainly didn’t... Not with a group of mean, rude dwarves led by a man whose glare scared him more than once that evening and-

 '... loyalty, honour, a willing heart. I can ask no more than that...'

'Then we are with you, laddie.'

Bilbo stopped his nervous pacing and hesitated. There was such a sadness in Thorin‘s voice... why...? He felt the strangest compassion for the dwarven lord and, leaning quietly on the door, he pressed his forehead against the cool wood. This was the most confusing day.

It was like Gandalf said, he was part Baggins and part Took and those two parts were now fighting a very even battle inside him.

He didn’t want to go with the dwarves. He liked his pretty and comfortable hole, his clean clothes and his tasty food. There was always a warm fire burning inside Bag End and soft goose feathered pillows waiting in the bedroom. What was waiting for him at the Lonely Mountain? Miles and miles away? Only danger and fear...

He wanted to go with the dwarves. Once in a while, when he had too much beer or ale, he would dream of meeting the elves. Of seeing their beauty, of listening to their noble voices as they sing, of watching them as they dance amongst the most beautiful of flowers. Of seeing them looking at him kindly as they show him around their dwelling places shrouded in mystery... He could meet them on this journey...

And then there was Thorin...

Bilbo wanted to join the dwarven company because of him as well. Because of the way the king looked when he spoke of Erebor, his eyes full of courage and sorrow... For some strange reason, Bilbo couldn’t force himself to let the king just walk away from his house without him, never to return again.

Loyalty, honour, a willing heart... He had all of it, and he wanted the dwarven king to know...

Oh, what a terrible battle was raging in Mr. Baggins’s heart that evening, as the dwarves in his sitting room began to sing about their lost home and their stolen gold...

**...**

'Mr.Baggins...' Ori’s quiet voice brought him back from memories.

He glanced at the little dwarf. Ori was sitting on a bench not far from him, looking at the finished picture on his lap and fidgeting with one of his pencils. His cheeks were pink and he looked like he was gathering courage to say or ask something...

Bilbo smiled. He was a very dear fellow, not talking much but rather curious about everything Bilbo was telling him about his beloved Shire. He kept to himself a lot and Bilbo suspected that he sought out his company so often just to get away from his watchful brothers, who were extremely protective of him. And they were not the only ones... Why, Bilbo noticed just that day. When they were running from the orc scouts, Dwalin was always there, somewhere near Ori, pushing him behind his back whenever the danger got too near. And Bilbo wondered... He had often seen Ori following the warrior with his gaze when they sat and talked together. The little dwarf would always listen to Bilbo but once in a while his attention would drift to Dwalin... Maybe-

'Mr. Baggins, could it be... that you care for Thorin?' Ori said, sighing deeply with relief that he managed to get the question out and turning even more red.

Bilbo felt his mouth opening on its own as he stared at the dwarf. How...? How could he... Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh...

Mr. Baggins felt as miserable as never... How could Ori possibly know? Was he so careless? Looking at Thorin more than he should? In a way that he shouldn‘t?

He could deny it. He could laugh. _'Absolutely not, my dear Ori! What a foolish thing to say! I am merely trying (in my own pitiful way) to prove the king that I too have honour and willing heart. That I am just as brave as any of you. That’s all!'_

He could pretend that he misunderstood the question. _'Naturally, laddie. He’s the leader of our company, after all, and I care about every single one of you!'_

Or he could just say the truth... _'I do, Ori. I think I’ve fallen in love with him the moment I first looked into his eyes back in Bag End...'_ That was the truth. It frightened him when he first realized but as their journey continued, he found himself falling more and more for the king.

Bilbo understood much better to Thorin’s reserved demeanour by now. He knew about most of the frightful things that had befallen him in his life, of what exactly happened in Erebor and what followed. And he cared. He cared with his whole heart for the king, and hated all those who had ever done him wrong...

Thorin’s entire being seemed pervaded with nobility and authority so powerful that it left Bilbo breathless. He was a strong warrior, skilful with every weapon he laid his hands on. He was a king that cared for his people. For his family. And even though Thorin was usually stern with his nephews, Bilbo knew that Fili’s and Kili‘s safety always mattered the most to him. 

Yes, the king cared as well...

... for everyone, except Bilbo...

And Bilbo couldn't blame him. Not really. He knew what Thorin must think of him... He was just a small, insignificant hobbit getting in trouble most of the time... He had caused some too, first when his pony freaked out and dropped not only Bilbo but also half of the supplies it was carrying into the river and Thorin had to get all wet to save him. And then with the trolls, when he got all of them in danger and Thorin was forced to surrender... And each time the king first made sure he was all right before scowling and between yelling essentially telling him he was useless and nuisance...

He did it this morning too. They were running from the orcs and Bilbo tripped in the tall grass, bruising his leg badly. Thorin was the one who noticed, he ran back for him, pulled him up and then shoved him down the tunnel leading to Rivendell. And as Bilbo rolled down over the hard stones, his only thought was whether Thorin was safe because he didn’t see him following him.

He hit the bottom, bounced from Bombur and scrambled to his feet quickly, looking anxiously at the tunnel opening. But the king came, as he always did. He couldn’t be defeated by a pack of orcs with wargs.

Bilbo could feel the heat spreading trough his cheeks. Thorin had saved his life...

And one by one the dwarves set off down the tunnel without him realizing it until Thorin’s voice sounded next to him.

'Are you all right?'

Bilbo winced. No, he was not all right. He had never been so not all right in his entire life. Only he couldn’t very well tell that to Thorin, so instead he said, 'Yes...'

'Your leg...'

They were the last ones left and the king was looking at him with concern. Bilbo glanced at his leg and realized it was bleeding. It was most strange... it didn’t hurt at all. All he could feel were the butterflies in his stomach, flapping their wings with mighty strength. He knew the feeling, he had been in love before. And usually the flutter died away soon...

But this was different. Thorin could raise a swirl that never calmed or got weaker. The butterflies in Bilbo’s stomach raised whenever the king looked at him and they kept flying, never wearing. And Bilbo was scared that they will never die, that he will never love anyone more than Thorin... Because he knew the king will never love him back and it hurt...

Thorin took a step closer to him. 'You should be more cautious next time...'

And the hobbit opened his mouth to apologize for being so careless but no sound came out. He caught a whiff of some unknown intoxicating scent that surrounded Thorin and could feel his cheeks slowly turning deep crimson. Perhaps Thorin did care for him after all...

The king kept studying his face for a moment but then frowned suddenly, 'If you get killed, it will be quite difficult for us to find a new burglar in these parts...'

...

Bilbo stood up slowly from his fallen tree and looked into Ori’s big innocent eyes, 'It’s rather sad, isn’t it?' 


	2. Dread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, in which Bilbo dreams, Gandalf keeps secrets and Thorin risks his life...

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 2 - Dread

'I, for one, am not complaining at all,' Bombur puffed as they climbed up a rocky path leading from Rivendell, 'the sooner we get to Erebor, the sooner we reclaim it, and the sooner our wives can come. I miss my dearest terribly...'

They left the Last Homely House before the sun went up and were hurrying up to the mountains now. Nobody seemed particularly bothered by the fact that they didn’t say neither thank you nor goodbye to the elves, or that they hardly had any rest...

Normally Bilbo would have complained about both of these things (not to mention that he didn’t have enough time to look around Rivendell properly) but today he didn‘t care either. The last night must have been the worst night of his life and he was more exhausted now than when he laid down in the evening.

He had been dreaming most strange dreams, wondering every single time he woke up whether the wine Fili and Kili had stolen from Elrond’s pantry wasn’t actually poisoned... but since everyone else seemed fine enough, snoring as loudly as usual, he closed his eyes again, waiting for another nightmare to come.

In his dreams he heard over and over the same sentence Gandalf had so cryptically uttered yesterday when he surprised him and Ori by the fallen tree, right after Bilbo confessed his feelings for Thorin to the little dwarf.

It gave him a terrible fright - Gandalf appeared out of nowhere, he might have heard... Bilbo would have given anything to be able to run away right at that moment, but he was petrified and couldn’t move from the place where he was standing. What will Gandalf think? He saw the wizard’s mouth moving but didn’t hear any words he was saying, until Gandalf winked at him and with serious voice said, 'There is no shame in loving the person you love...'

And like a spell that sentence kept weaving itself through Bilbo’s dreams. He dreamt he was sitting in a cave full of wonderful and shiny coins, burying his fingers deep in them, relishing in their cool hardness. A violet dragon was sleeping beside him. He wasn’t as big as the dwarves made him look, he was hardly bigger than Bilbo. He was chubby, his pale belly perfectly round, white smoke coming from his snout as he snored peacefully. Bilbo took his fingers out of the coins and patted the dragon’s front paw lovingly.

There was a strange sound suddenly and Bilbo looked up. Someone else was in the cave! He came for his gold! But damn the gold, he will want to take him away from his dragon! He can’t allow that, the dragon had his heart... He jumped up on the pile of coins and pressed himself to the creature, facing the stranger.

' _There is no shame in loving the person you love..._ ' the dragon mumbled in his sleep.

Bilbo loved his dragon. Of course he loved him. He had been in that cave with his dragon his entire life. How could he possibly leave them behind and go far away with the stranger? That would be despicable. But he knew... the stranger charmed him. He made him fall in love with him so that Bilbo would leave everything he knew and loved...

He hugged the dragon but felt his fingers loosening their grip... He felt the dragon vanishing beneath him and when he next looked the stranger held his heart in his hands. Bilbo could see him better now. He was tall, dark-haired...

 _'You should be more cautious next time...'_ the man spoke.

But there won't be next time... Bilbo will never get his heart back from those hands that were much stronger than his... A panic seized him and he screamed, waking instantly.

But he was too tired. Once he made sure he was still in Rivendell, the sleep took him again.

He was in the middle of a strange village. All the houses around him were made of giant ripe raspberries, and there was so many of them... They covered the whole world. It was their world and Bilbo wondered what the raspberry-people looked like. Will they be mad at him for eating raspberries? He heard a high-pitched cruel laugh and turned around. There, in the centre of the village, was an enormous throne and on it sat Lobelia. Her throne was made of raspberries, just like her dress - woven out of thousands of little red berries. It looked rather funny but Bilbo didn’t laugh. There was something scary about Lobelia’s smirk.

'Really, Bilbo?' she sneered, her voice scorching him like the coldest frost, 'A dwarven king?'

Bilbo couldn’t talk. No, no, she mustn’t know about Thorin, she will want to take him! She will hurt him...

'You believe that? That there is no shame in loving the person you love? Hahahaaaaaa!'

Lobelia’s throne shook as she laughed, morphing into a new and even more frightening shape.

'Oh, but you should be ashamed! What do you have to offer to him? He is a king, he needs a queen! Not some wretched little hobbit. He only tolerates you because the wizard wants you here. Give him to me, Bilbo!'

_'Loyalty, honour, a willing heart...'_

Bilbo gritted his teeth. He won’t give Thorin up. He won’t! He won’t! Even if the king hates him, he won’t!

He woke up again, bathed in cold sweat, panting wildly. 'It was just a dream,' he whispered to himself as he ran his hand over his wet forehead. And then he saw Thorin, sitting by the fire quietly just few feet away from him and watching him intently. Bilbo could see the flames reflected in his eyes as the king fixed his gaze on him. He couldn’t read his expression though, so he laid down again, closing his eyes for another nightmare, pulling his cloak closer to himself... It was very odd, he didn’t remember it being so dark and furry, so heavy... But he was too tired to think about it... too tired...

...

'Your wives?' Bilbo repeated, looking at Bombur who was walking in front of him. He didn’t really pay much attention to anything since Bofur woke him that morning but now he suddenly became aware of his surroundings. 'I didn’t know you were married.'

Bombur chuckled as he turned around for a moment, 'What! You didn’t guess from my firm slender body that somebody's taking good care of me back home?' He laughed, 'Oh yes, most of us are married, laddie!'

Bilbo stared at Bombur’s ladles, bouncing and tinkling with the dwarf’s every step. 'But... Thorin...'

'No, no, uncle’s not married, Bilbo,' Fili behind him joined the conversation.

'But it’s not like all the ladies in the Blue Mountains didn’t try,' Kili giggled, laying a hand around his brother’s shoulders.

Fili tried to shake him off unsuccessfully, 'You remember that dark-haired one who always wore rubies?'

'Ooh, she was a beauty...'

'A very persistent one, too...'

'Yeah, not a chance with uncle...'

'Ah, you lads wait,' Bombur said, 'once Erebor is ours and the dwarves from Iron Hills come, there is bound to be one among them good enough for Thorin. He will need a queen when he’s on his throne, won’t he? He’ll have to choose someone...'

A chill ran down Bilbo’s spine. Of course Thorin will need a wife, that was to be expected. Why, even Lobelia of his dreams tried to tell him that... Why didn’t it ever cross his mind? Or maybe it did... maybe he just tried to ignore it... For him, it always came as something natural for two men or two women to be together if they so wished but maybe for the dwarves... Maybe for the dwarves such thing wasn’t even allowed... Even if he somehow managed to make the king fall in love with him, Thorin could never be with him. He would still have to marry an uknown girl from the Iron Hills...

He would still have to marry...

Tears prickled in his eyes. Why was he even going with them? Why was he doing this to himself...? Didn’t Thorin say more than once that he was useless?

He stopped, got out of their line and looked back at Rivendell, shining far beneath them like a silver gem in the morning sun. He could go back. Elrond seemed kind enough, he could beg him to borrow him a pony for journey home. He will leave the king and his heart will shatter but at least he won’t have to see disapproval in his eyes every time he looks at him, he won’t have to stand and watch as Thorin kisses someone else, holds someone else in his arms...

Bilbo’s eyes fell on Ori almost the end of the line. He must say farewell at least to him, he would never forgive himself if he didn’t...

He waited till Ori reached him, the little dwarf’s eyes watching him with concern but then he suddenly looked up on the hill and Bilbo turned around without thinking.

And there stood Thorin, out of their line like him, his companions passing him by. He was looking straight at Bilbo.

The hobbit’s eyes are very good indeed, they can see far better than most. And as Bilbo looked at the king, he saw worry on his face. Why? There was no one chasing after them from Rivendell... But he was looking straight at Bilbo, his blue eyes piercing him. Him... Was he worried about something Bilbo would do? Did he know his burglar wanted to leave...?

Thorin’s lips parted slightly as he took a deep breath, his expression changed and Bilbo could it read it no more. It was the very same one with which he looked at him last night when the hobbit woke from his nightmare...

Bilbo would give anything to have those lips kiss him at least once... anything... He left his Shire for Thorin. He left everything he loved behind because the king took his heart with him. Bilbo pressed a hand to his stomach to silence the butterflies inside. They were flapping their wings too loudly, they were reminding him of something...

He didn’t have his heart anymore but he still had them... He couldn’t let them die. He couldn’t leave Thorin because he was the one keeping them alive... That was right, he must stay with him, for as long as he can...

He nodded to himself. Yes, he will. He made up his mind long ago and only forgot for a short moment now... Even if the king never loves him back, he will keep trying, he will not leave him until Thorin himself asks him to.

He joined the line again, bending his head, his sharp eyes thus not seeing the smile that spread on Thorin's lips for a fleeting second...

*********

Bilbo was shaking, the wet clothes sticking to his body were making him even more cold. He was rather grateful for Gandalf’s hand on his shoulder because it was the only and most welcome source of heat.

'It’s too dangerous, you fools!' the wizard’s voice thundered through the cave as he refused Oin’s and Gloin’s request to light a fire. Bilbo would very much like to take the dwarves‘ side but he was too busy trying to keep his teeth from breaking themselves to pieces as they chattered.

Gandalf steered him to the far end of the cave and looked at him carefully in the feeble light of his staff. He grunted and helped him pull his wet coat down, sitting on a boulder opposite him.

'Now, my dear Bilbo, tell me. Why the tears?'

Bilbo could feel the warmth seeping through him slowly now that he was out of the rain and wind. He raised his hand and ran his sleeve over his cheeks.

'Just rain,' he croaked and as if to support his statement a thunder roared outside.

'Uhuh,' the wizard muttered, 'and I am just using tricks, not real magic...'

Bilbo blinked, 'Really?'

Gandalf looked at him reproachfully, 'No. That was a lie. Just like what you’re telling me now...'

What else was he supposed to tell him? That Thorin nearly just died while saving him when that damn rock beneath his feet collapsed...? That he told him it was the biggest mistake to take him with them?

He was so scared... first the stone giants and their thunder battle and then walking on a slippery path with winds trying to knock them down from every direction... and then the fall...

He didn’t even know how it happened or how he managed to grab the edge of the rock... he just felt an immense fear because there was nothing to step on and he had no strength to hoist himself up... and he thought he will die for sure and that thought blocked everything else out. He felt someone’s hands closing around his but not strong enough to pull him up... And then Thorin was suddenly there, beside him, his strong hand pushing Bilbo up as if he didn’t weight anything...

And then he almost fell himself...

He kept staring at Bilbo when they were finally both in safety, the rain drenching them all to the bone...

'Are you all right, Mr.Baggins?' Bofur asked, the water dripping from his hat right on his nose.

'He should never have come,' Thorin’s voice was quiet but still audible regardless the howling of the wind, his eyes never leaving Bilbo’s, 'He has no place amongst us. He would have done better to stay in his hole where he belongs-'

Bilbo stopped listening, he couldn’t take it, but Thorin went on. Looking at the little hobbit without the slightest trace of pity or understanding. The rain kept whipping Bilbo‘s cheeks and among it tears were making its way. He knew about them because they were warm, burning his skin. He had never cried in front of Thorin but he couldn’t stop it now. Maybe it was because the rain was hiding his tears, concealing them... or maybe because Thorin’s words were more cruel than ever before... Bilbo didn’t know, but he kept weeping, looking at the king until Dwalin’s voice made Thorin stop.

...

And here they were in the cave now, the storm still raging outside.

'It wasn’t my fault this time,' Bilbo whispered, huddling his knees closer to himself, 'the rock... he’s so unfair to me... and I...' He could feel tears on his cheeks again.

Gandalf sighed. 'I won’t deny that, he treats you bad. But don’t think... never think that Thorin doesn’t care about you. That he actually means all the things he says, that he really thinks he would be better off without you... Thorin is a good man, he knows how to care and love... but with you... you’re different, Bilbo. He doesn’t know how to deal with... Well, out of the two of you, you are the more patient one, so you’ll have to be strong for both of you and give him some time to figure things out for himself. He will, eventually and then all will be well...'

Bilbo was looking at him, blinking tears away from his eyes, 'I don’t think I understand, Gandalf...'

'Of course you don’t!' the wizard barked, 'It didn’t make any sense! How am I supposed to give advices when I have to keep so many secrets? Anyway, my point was... go and get some sleep, Bilbo. And don’t worry about tomorrow, it will take care of itself.'

Bilbo’s eyes closed and he sighed. Tomorrow will take care of itself...

But then the floor beneath him vanished and down he fell, deep into the heart of the mountain... 


	3. Defended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3, in which Bilbo throws away a perfectly good food, Gandalf and Ori take a constitutional walk and Thorin wants his cloak..... :)

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 3 - Defended

'Hold it firmly, lad,' Dwalin muttered and stood up, 'I’ll get more water...'

And off he went, leaving Bilbo all alone kneeling beside Thorin, his hands pressing a clean cloth to the king’s chest. His face couldn’t possibly get any more red and he kept his eyes stubbornly fixed on his own fingers. He didn’t dare to look at Thorin but knew that the king was watching him intently the whole time, even when Dwalin was stitching his wounds from the warg’s teeth...

Bilbo swallowed. If it were him he would have fainted straight away should he see someone getting near him with a needle. And then would probably scream and cry the rest of the time...

Not Thorin though...

The others scattered around Carrock, looking for a good place where to settle for now, all overjoyed that they could see the Lonely Mountain at last and started to prepare the dinner the eagles had so kindly hunted for them.

And all that time the king was standing further away from them, keeping his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, demanding he stayed by his side. He reassured Fili and Kili that he was completely fine and shooed them away. He admitted, when Oin asked, that in fact yes, he was in pain. He repeated it three times, while running his hand over his face and leaning on Bilbo lightly and then called for Dwalin, when even after the third time poor Oin who had lost his ear-trumpet still didn’t hear what he was saying.

Dwalin helped him out of his cloak and thrust it to Bilbo’s arms like it was the most natural thing, like Bilbo always took care of the king’s things. The hobbit clutched it, the fabric and fur reminding him of something for a moment but there was no time for that because just then Dwalin pulled up Thorin’s shirt and inhaled through gritted teeth.

Two things happened then. Bilbo’s poor and empty stomach decided it was time to get sick upon seeing Thorin’s blood and injuries, and his head spun lightly when he saw the king’s bare and muscular chest. Oh, dear. He dropped his gaze to his feet. It wasn’t as if he ever thought about Thorin’s naked body... certainly not. Or as if he ever wanted to... well, definitely not. And thoughts like that were absolutely inappropriate in a situation like this. Oh, he was too tired for this... He took a deep breath and flopped himself on the ground.

'You’re not going to be of much help, Mr. Baggins, if few drops of blood make you go all pale like that,' Dwalin chuckled, helping Thorin to lay on the ground.

Few drops of blood? 'H-help?' Bilbo stuttered.

'Yeah,' the warrior nodded, bending over Thorin with serious face, 'come here...'

Ten different ways of 'no, thank you very much' flashed through Bilbo‘s mind but he didn’t say any of them. He looked at Thorin, half expecting him to say that he didn’t need nor want his help, but things were different now. Thorin didn’t hate him anymore. He proved himself to the king and everything changed...

Thorin looked back at him, his expression anything but hostile, his face a little pale.

He must be in so much pain, Bilbo thought. And he forgot about his stomach and dislike for any forms of blood, put Thorin’s cloak carefully aside and on all four hesitantly crawled to both dwarves because he didn’t trust his feet to hold him.

'Here, keep this here,' Dwalin instructed and Bilbo obeyed, looking at the king quickly. Thorin was gazing back at him, his sad eyes fixed on the hobbit, not saying a word.

And he never did, not even once. The whole time Dwalin was treating him, he was quiet, his eyes never leaving Bilbo’s face. And slowly the hobbit could feel his cheeks turning red under Thorin’s gaze, his heart pounding. It was certainly less disturbing when the king didn’t bother to glance at him at all during the day...

He kept looking at Dwalin’s skilful fingers, moving quickly and adeptly as he worked. He felt dizzy and was suddenly rather grateful that he didn’t eat anything. He felt Thorin‘s warm skin beneath his fingers and, once in a while, when he flattened his palm, he could feel his heartbeat. Fast and uneven at first but soon it calmed. Bilbo kept doing it as often as he dared, taking comfort from the beat of Thorin’s heart.

'Good,' Dwalin said when he finished, pressing a cloth to the last wound to stop it from bleeding, 'It wasn’t so bad, not all that deep. Hold it firmly, lad,' he turned to Bilbo, 'I’ll get more water...'

...

It was taking him a long time and Bilbo’s fingers used it all to start trembling terribly. He took a shaky breath, trying to calm down before Thorin will notice.

The king’s hand closed around his all of a sudden and Bilbo yelped. He will send him away now for sure...

'Thank you,' Thorin said, his voice hoarse from fatigue and pain, 'for saving my life... for not leaving... All the times that I... that you stayed despite all that...'

Bilbo looked at him quickly. 'I could never leave you...,' he heard himself whispering quietly, almost inaudibly. Everything was suddenly covered in haze...

Thorin’s hand tightened its grip around his. It was warm, too warm. Hot. A fever...

Bilbo glanced around. He needed Dwalin to hurry back with that water, so that they could dress the king’s wounds and get his cloak back on him. They needed to keep him warm, otherwise...

The warrior’s heavy steps sounded behind him. Bilbo watched as Dwalin put something green on the wounds, dressed them, pulled Thorin’s shirt over his bare skin again and helped him to sit back against the rock behind him. Thorin had to let go of Bilbo‘s hand during this and the hobbit felt suddenly very cold.

'Get some rest now,' Dwalin said as he was leaving, patting Thorin’s shoulder and heading to the others by the fire. Bilbo stood up to get the cloak and then follow Dwalin but Thorin’s hand closed around his again and with it came the most beautiful feeling of warmth.

'Could you get my cloak...' the king asked huskily without looking at him, 'and stay here with me?'

Bilbo blinked. This had to be a dream, he decided. A marvellous, most wondrous dream. Perhaps if he doesn’t move too quickly or speak too loudly, he will never wake. He will be able to stay here with Thorin, the king looking at him as if he...

'The cloak,' Thorin repeated when Bilbo didn’t move a bit. And then he frowned a little, 'But if you’d prefer to go to the fire, I’m not stopping you.'

How could he think...?

He snatched the cloak from the ground hastily and wrapped it around the king as well as he could, sitting down next to him again, though a little closer this time. He could hear the others fussing around, eating the dinner and singing. Bofur was playing his flute, a nice happy melody... Fili came, bringing Thorin and him bowls with food and returning to the company again.

Bilbo took a deep breath of the evening air. It smelled much better on this side of the mountains, though it was colder now, with the setting sun...

'I wanted...' Thorin spoke again and Bilbo looked at him, 'I wanted you to know that I didn’t mean any of those things I’ve said to you...'

A sudden heat started to spread through Bilbo. 'It’s all right. Please forget about it...' He could. The moment Thorin hugged him here everything bad that had happened between them before seemed to disappear. There was nothing but Thorin’s strong arms around him, his hair taken by wind caressing Bilbo‘s cheek, that beautiful scent of his enchanting the hobbit...

'It’s not all right!' the king said harshly, turning to Bilbo and wincing with pain.

Bilbo jumped to his knees, pushing Thorin back gently, 'You mustn’t move yet...'

The dwarven lord chuckled and Bilbo was completely taken aback by suprise, stopping where he was, with his hands on Thorin’s shoulders. He had never heard the king laugh. He had hardly ever seen him smile...

'It’s not all right and you know it,' Thorin repeated quietly, his breath brushing the hobbit’s face. Bilbo didn’t even realize they were this close... He glanced at Thorin’s lips involuntarily and immediately turned red because he knew Thorin had certainly noticed. 'I need you to know that I didn’t say any of it to hurt you, rather... to prove something to myself...'

'What?' Bilbo asked, his own voice shaking.

'I never doubted your courage or your heart. You proved both when you agreed to go on this quest with us. But I... it was your loyalty I was putting to test. To see if you will leave us... leave me... I do admit, I was doing it in a very... unfortunate way, and for that I’m truly sorry. I got scolded for it though...' A smile flickered across his face as he looked behind Bilbo.

The hobbit turned as well and there, by the edge of the Carrock, Gandalf was strolling peacefully with Ori. The little dwarf looking quite distracted, glancing behind him every now and then to where the others were sitting. Dwalin yelled something about goblins just then...

'Could you forgive me?' Thorin asked, his eyes still on the wizard.

Poor Bilbo couldn’t make a sound, so instead he just nodded.

'I don’t want you to leave... and I don’t want you to do stupid things like sneaking around trolls, falling from cliffs or facing Azog ever again. I can‘t bear the thought of losing you... I think, that was why I was always so rough with you when you got yourself in danger...'

Azog's name resounded in Bilbo's head and he shivered with the memory of the white orc. He had never been so scared of anyone as of him. But to stand between Thorin and him or let Thorin die... there was never any choice, really, there were never two options. There was only saving the king, at any cost...

He hesitated then. Did Thorin just say he couldn’t bear losing him? That... that sounded like... But he mustn’t allow himself to hope for too much. It could have meant something else for the dwarves than for him. Thorin was his friend now and that will have to do, that was enough... Unless he meant he didn’t want to lose him as a burglar... With the past experiences that could be possible... 

'Do you understand what I’m telling you?'

Bilbo nodded again, 'Yes. You don’t have to worry. I won’t leave, I will go to Erebor with you and do the job you hired me for...'

Thorin chuckled again, 'And to think Gandalf was saying you’re smart...'

Bilbo frowned as he looked at the king. Nobody was going to call him stupid! He opened his mouth to defend himself but Thorin’s face turned serious again.

'I know how you feel about me, Bilbo,' he said and the hobbit could feel the blood draining from his face. He dropped his gaze. Oh god...

'What I’m trying to say,' Thorin continued, 'is that I feel the same way about you. And if possible I wish for you to never leave my side.'

The bowl fell out of Bilbo‘s hands, hit the ground with a light clang, rolled away for a while and then stopped. Both of them followed it with their gaze. Bilbo couldn’t breathe. This simply couldn’t be happening... Maybe he died. Maybe Azog’s orcs killed him and he was now living in some sort of dream where Thorin loved him back...

The sun set behind the horizon and he shivered.

'Are you cold?'

Bilbo looked at the king again, relishing in the fact that he could do so now without worrying about being caught. 'Can you do that?' he blurted out.

The king raised his eyebrow. 'Do what?'

Bilbo fidgeted with his last button, 'B-be with a man... Bombur said you’ll have to find a wife because you’re the king and then... then you would be the one leaving, not me...'

A soft smile appeared on Thorin’s lips as he tilted his head a little and looked at his little burglar. He reached out a hand and pulled Bilbo close to himself, covering him with cloak as well.

'Don’t worry about that,' he whispered, sounding suddenly very tired.

Bilbo buried his face in the fur on Thorin’s cloak, for the first time in a very long time smiling happily. And than a memory flashed through him again. Of a heavy dark cloak around him...

'You covered me with your cloak back in Rivendell...' he breathed out. Thorin laid carefully down and Bilbo laid next to him, not even thinking that perhaps he shouldn’t, that maybe that was too intimate...

'You were shivering...' the dwarf’s arm slipped around him.

Bilbo could hear Thorin’s breathing becoming more and more shallow.

'Thorin,' he whispered, huddling himself closer to him.

'Hmm?'

'I will never leave you.'

He could see the king’s eyes opening and fixing on him, the first stars reflecting in them. Thorin brushed his fingers over Bilbo’s cheek gently, smiled and kissed him softly before falling into sleep.    


	4. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4, in which Bofur is warm, Gloin disappears and Nori wants to smoke. That's it. Maybe... ;)

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 4 - Desire

Thorin woke up and for the first time in years felt good. He felt great. He left his eyes closed and just listened, taking deep breaths of the morning air. It smelled sweetly, as if somewhere below them all trees were in bloom.

He felt the first rays of sun shining on his legs, warming him nicely.

He heard Oin untangling himself from his cloak, just like every morning, groaning while doing so. Thorin didn’t know how anyone could manage that... tangling himself in his own cloak in sleep...

'For heaven’s sake!' Gloin’s sleepy voice, 'Can’t you puff more loudly? There are still some dwarves you haven’t woken up yet!'

'What?!' Oin yelled.

'Humph!' A sound of rustling fabric, probably Gloin turning to his other side.

And then there was silence, disturbed only by snoring of the dwarves, songs of the birds and a sound of a tinderbox as Oin lit the fire.

The hobbit in his arms stirred lightly in his sleep, shifting the arm he had across Thorin’s chest a little to where the bite marks were. The king breathed in sharply but then realized that he didn’t feel any pain at all. He ran his own fingers over the wounds but the effect was the same... Very impressive, he must compliment Oin on his ointment making skills later. He preferred not to know what his companion put in his medicine ever since he discovered, years ago, that some of the ingredients were rather... ah, better not remember. But whatever was in this green one, it‘s certainly done its job splendidly.

He stretched a little and opened his eyes, his gaze automatically falling on Bilbo. It became a habit lately, locating the hobbit among his companions the first thing in the morning, making sure he’s not harmed or gone. But this time, Bilbo was huddled next to him, covered up to his chin in Thorin’s cloak. His cheeks were pink thanks to the warmth the king’s body provided, his curly hair as ruffled as ever. He looked rather adorable...

A movement on the stairs leading down from the Carrock caught his attention. Gandalf was sitting there, stuffing leaves in his pipe. Was it only his imagination or was there an immensely satisfied expression on the wizard’s face?

He took a deep breath when he remembered Gandalf’s words few days ago... about him realizing perfectly well how much Bilbo cared about him and yet treating him like he didn’t matter... Gandalf was right. But he knew it too, that he was mistreating Bilbo. And all because... He may never be able to make amends for that...

He coughed. All right, that still hurt a little...

The hobbit’s eyes flew open in an instant. He noticed his hand laying over Thorin’s wounds and quickly withdrew it, shooting an alarmed look at Thorin, 'I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?'

Thorin‘s hand stroked Bilbo’s cheek and he kissed the surprised hobbit. His lips were so soft, they felt wonderful beneath his own... Almost as if he was kissing petals of some tender flower and not a solid breathing hobbit. A hobbit. It was all very new, Bilbo’s smooth skin under his fingers, not a sign of hair anywhere, the hobbit moaning quietly... Thorin couldn’t help but wonder whether the rest of Bilbo’s body was equally smooth...

He broke the kiss. He shouldn‘t frighten his little hobbit more than he already had. But when he next looked at Bilbo, the burglar seemed a little disappointed, all red, dropping his gaze to Thorin’s chest embarrassedly. He wanted it too then...

'No, you didn’t hurt me,' he answered, his gaze still on Bilbo’s lips. A smile appeared on them.

*****

The water in the stream running around Beorn’s house was cool but felt undeniably good after a whole day’s walk. Thorin scooped it up in his hands, washing blood and dirt from his face.

Few feet away from him Bombur was floating contentedly, the current hardly moving him. Bofur came running from somewhere jumping into the stream with a loud and joyful yell.

'By my b-beard!' he chattered his teeth when he emerged again, 'the water is s-so surprisingly warm!'

'Really?' Dori asked, the only one still dressed, eyeing Bofur suspiciously.

Well, not the only one, Thorin realized as he turned to the house. Ori was walking to them, a small happy smile on his face. There are still some dwarves, apart from Bofur, who look forward to swimming then... Well, little Ori was always a bit different than the rest of them, too nice, too shy...

Dwalin was walking few steps behind him, eyes glued on Ori’s back... What took them so long?

A roar of laughter from Fili and Kili sounded again a little way up the stream, joined this time by Nori and Bofur. Thorin noticed that Gloin disappeared... he sure as hell hoped they didn’t drown him. He sighed. No matter how old they got, they were always acting like little children. His gaze fell on Fili’s happy expression as he giggled, one arm around his brother’s neck. The boy will one day succeed him on the throne. Ever since his nephew was born, Thorin knew, even though he couldn’t explain how or why. But it was starting to make sense now, wasn’t it?

 _'Can you do that? Be with a man?'_ Bilbo’s voice sounded in his memory. He could do that. As long as he had his nephews he could do that...

He looked around, wondering all of a sudden where the hobbit had gone.

When they arrived to Beorn’s house in the late afternoon he noticed that Bilbo was oddly flushed. He was walking with Ori and the two of them came as last, both red, both staring at the ground stubbornly. Thorin knew this place was strange and this only confirmed it. Unless... Bilbo confided in Ori about him... Well, nothing wrong with that, he did the same thing with Dwalin.

'Are you all right?' he asked Bilbo then, his crimson cheeks giving him a fright at first.

The burglar nodded, 'Yes. We were just talking about...' he hesitated, 'rooms in Beorn’s house...'

Ori shot a look at his friend and swallowed.

Very strange indeed. Rooms in Beorn’s house? From what he knew the shape-shifter was a lone man, it was very unlikely for him to have more than one room and even then... what was so special about it? But he understood now. The house was enormous, with enough rooms for each and every one of them to get a peaceful and quiet night all alone, not having to crowd around the fire with others for the first time in weeks.

All of a sudden, he saw a movement behind a rock close Beorn’s orchard where the stream bent. He slipped in the water, the soft waves barely reaching his waist and with a sword in his hand went to that place. He realized that the sun had almost set, the land still washed in a warm orange light that will soon give way to darkness. Beorn warned them to return to the house when the lights on the house go off and stay inside the whole night...

He reached the rock and looked behind it. And there, hidden from the sight of others, Bilbo sat with his legs submerged in water, half his clothes on a neat pile beside him, a decidedly unhappy expression on his face as he tried to unbutton his shirt... He yelped when he saw Thorin.

'What on earth are you doing here all alone?' the king asked.

'I was... I wanted to take a bath...'

'Well, why don’t you? We don’t have much time before the lights go out.'

The hobbit's hands reached for the buttons again hesitantly, while he was busy looking anywhere but the king.

'And why aren’t you with us? Anything could happen to you here and I would never know-' He stopped. He was doing it again, being too harsh with the hobbit when he had really done nothing wrong. He laid his sword beside Bilbo's things. 'I’m sorry-'

'I didn’t want you to see me naked!' the burglar blurted out suddenly, for the first time looking into his eyes, turning as red as he had ever seen him.

Thorin didn’t know what to say. It didn’t happen to him all that often, but this time he really didn’t know, so he settled for what seemed like a safe option. 'You didn’t want me to see you naked?' When you don’t know what to say, just repeat. That was the very first life lesson he got from Dwalin when they met.

The hobbit shook his head. 'I... I’m not a warrior... I don’t look... like... well...'

Thorin laughed when he understood, 'Yeah, you’re silly, too.'

The hobbit looked at him but didn’t say anything, so Thorin went over to him, standing between Bilbo’s knees. He reached for his hands that stopped on the second button, obviously tangled in the threads from his shirt, and moved them aside, unbuttoning the shirt himself.

Bilbo watched him, his breath brushing Thorin’s chest quickly and unevenly. The king finished with the buttons, pulled the shirt from the burglar’s shoulders and Bilbo put it on his pile without bothering to fold it this time.

Thorin inhaled slowly, trying to stay calm. The hobbit’s body was indeed as smooth as his cheeks... A sudden desire filled him as his eyes ran over Bilbo‘s white skin. There, right where the hem of the trousers started, was a line of lightly brown hair. He wanted to strip those trousers, he wanted to take Bilbo right here on the river bank, with only birds as their witnesses...

'Thorin...' Bilbo breathed, his voice more deep and husky than usually. 'Are... are you naked?'

'Of course,' Thorin frowned, he wouldn’t bath clothed, would he? His hands twitched away from the hobbit suddenly. Was he making him uncomfortable? Was he perhaps pushing him into something he wasn’t ready for?

He took a deep breath. This was way more complicated than he ever imagined... He should maybe learn more about the hobbits and their customs... He turned around, standing with his back to the hobbit, intending to give him some privacy. 'You should hurry and get undressed as well. The lights will go out soon and I’m not- '

He heard a movement and felt Bilbo’s arms wrapping around his waist, his head leaning against his back. He held onto him desperately, as if worried Thorin would walk away.

-leaving you here alone...

'Please don’t leave, I’m sorry...'

Thorin ran his fingers over Bilbo’s, 'I wasn’t going to leave.' He felt the hobbit relaxing a little when something else came to his mind.

'Bilbo...'

'Hmm?'

'Have you ever been with a man?'

*****

Thorin was standing in his room, leaning against the door, listening. The lights in the house went out a long time ago but still there was a lot of commotion in the corridor. Ori seemed the only sensible one there. The boy disappeared in his room at once and didn’t leave it ever since, just like Dwalin who refused Balin’s offer to smoke for a while. He seemed rather impatient to get in bed, that wasn’t like him...

Gloin was standing somewhere near his room chatting with Bombur and Nori. About food. One would think that they had enough time to tell each other everything they wanted during the day.

He heard Fili and Kili giggling in a room next to his. Of course they had to stay together...

He sighed. He needed everyone to go to bed so that he could sneak into Bilbo’s room and... He didn’t really know what he wanted to do... He just needed to see him, touch him... hear the answer to his question because Bombur interrupted them just as he turned to the hobbit again; the current apparently stronger than the dwarf in the end.

So he waited by his door patiently, the dwarves leaving one by one into their rooms slowly.

'I don’t see why we have to stay inside,' Nori was saying, 'it’s such a nice night. Nothing better than smoking in the fresh air at night...'

'Right you are,' agreed Bofur, 'seems perfectly quiet to me outside, no danger there for sure. But alas, we promised to stay put, so goodnight!'

Thorin’s heart started to pound faster. They were the only ones left, he counted everyone and they had all been in their rooms already. Two doors closed and the king reached for a handle when there came suddenly a sound of another door opening. He heard someone closing the door quietly behind him and padding softly down the corridor... and then suddenly silence.

That was very odd... why would anyone stand in the middle of the corridor? He tried to remember whose rooms were right there. Dwalin’s and Bifur’s... That made no sense...  

He waited and minutes passed slowly until he lost his patience and flung his door open. He wasn’t going to waste anymore time because someone couldn’t make up his mind whether or not to enter a room. He didn’t even put one leg out of the room though, when he heard the door opening and then closing again within a second. Well, whatever this was about, at least he hastened someone’s decision.

Thorin closed his own door and went down the dark corridor to where the burglar’s room was, right at the opposite end. He wasn’t even half way there when he bumped into something and Bilbo was suddenly there, appearing out of nowhere just like in that forest after they ran away from the goblins.

'Thorin...' he breathed, surprised, 'I was coming to you...' He dropped his gaze, though in the darkness that covered the whole place it was rather needless.

'So was I,' Thorin answered, inhaling softly so that he could say what he wanted to say but the hobbit was faster.

'I was wondering whether I could... spend the night with you.'  


	5. Daring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5, in which Ori confesses, and so does Thorin. And Bilbo learns that some things are possible...

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 5 - Daring 

Bilbo was floating. He was flying on the wings of happiness and couldn't possibly be any more joyful. This had to be the most wonderful day of his life and he wished for it to never end.

They had been walking for hours through a green forest full of tall trees, following a path leading to Beorn’s house, but Bilbo didn’t care. His feet didn’t hurt at all, in fact, they turned into small clouds and he was simply drifting. He could still feel Thorin’s lips on his, like the softest tingle that never ceased and he was well aware that he was smiling ever since he woke up, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. And he didn’t want to stop it.

Ori next to him was silent, deep in his thoughts and then suddenly he frowned. Bilbo looked at him. He was so absorbed in his own happiness that he didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings. That wasn’t right, Ori was his dear friend and something was bothering him now...

'What is it, Ori?' he asked, eyeing the little dwarf with concern.

Ori winced and looked at him. He frowned even more, as if not sure he could tell Bilbo what was on his mind. 'Well, you see, Mr. Baggins...' he started, fidgeting with his mitts as he so often did when he was nervous. Bilbo was fairly surprised that he hasn’t ruined them yet. 'The thing is... I think I can tell you this since... you and Thorin... well, you see, Mr. Baggins, I am in a rather same situation as you, you see...'

Bilbo was staring at him. _The same situation as you_... He couldn’t possibly mean...

'You mean... you are in love with Thorin as well?'

'No, no! Nothing like that!' Ori shook his head vigorously and then he started talking quickly, almost as if worried that if he stopped even just to take a breath he would lose his courage. And three of his words stuck firmly to the hobbit’s mind. Dwalin, kiss, love.

A smile returned on Bilbo’s lips. Ah, this explained a lot. He folded his arms behind his back and watched Ori’s red face as the dwarf was now taking deep breaths, his small chest heaving. So it was as he thought, the reason why Ori was always looking at the warrior, the way Dwalin always seemed to be protecting him. The warrior loved him back, there was no doubt about that. And they kissed. Just like Thorin and him... This simply had to be the best day!

But Ori still looked troubled, confused even, about something. He went on, telling Bilbo what Gandalf told him about Beorn’s house. He told him about lots of rooms and comfortable beds the house was supposed to be full of. He told him about Dwalin asking him to come to his room at night.

Bilbo opened his mouth, his heart pounding for some reason. He coughed. Well, that was... that was... An image of Thorin flashed in front of his eyes. They had spent the last night together, perhaps Thorin will also want him to come to his room. Will he come? Of course, he will, there was never any doubt. He will come, he will do whatever the king asks him to do. But what if Thorin doesn’t ask him...? It was different for Ori and Dwalin, they had known each other for many years, but him and the king...

'S-so,' he looked at Ori’s kind face, 'what did you answer?'

*****

Bilbo was sitting on his bed in one of Beorn’s rooms, watching Thorin by the window. The clouds had hidden the moon and rain started to fall, hitting the roof above them with soft regular taps.

The hobbit was also standing behind his door before. He heard Gandalf’s and every single dwarf’s door being closed. He heard Ori opening his door again quietly and padding slowly somewhere and he knew he was going to Dwalin.

He felt a strange stinging pain in his heart. He wished he could be like Ori, innocent and sweet, going to the man he loved and knowing that his first time will be something beautiful for both of them, knowing that Dwalin will be tender and loving and that neither of them will ever think of anyone else...

Bilbo pressed his forehead against the door and closed his eyes, listening to Ori’s receding footsteps.

_'Have you ever been with a man?'_

He had no chance to answer that question. And even if he had, what would he say? Yes, I’ve made love to someone before... But you can’t call it love-making when you’re doing it with someone you don’t love, can you? It never really occurred to him...

But now... from what he learned about the dwarves so far, they didn’t take these things as lighty as hobbits. They were only with those they loved, with those they were serious about, those they wanted to marry or stay with as a couple.

What will Thorin think once he finds out? And he will find out, Bilbo didn’t want to lie to him... What will he think about him?

It wasn’t as if he had too many experiences, there were only two. But if he was honest with himself, he didn’t love either of them... He thought he did at that time, but he didn’t, not really. It was more curiosity; a passion that didn’t mean anything... It couldn’t compare to this; with Thorin everything was different, everything was new... He remembered Thorin’s fingers unbuttoning his shirt. He was just helping him because he couldn’t do it himself, it was the most natural thing and yet... Bilbo kept panting and shivering, and he felt that it meant much more beneath it all. He had never felt like that before...

He couldn’t hear Ori’s steps anymore, so he opened his door as well, more quietly than any dwarf could have ever done and sneaked out. A door at the end of the corridor flew open and gave him a fright. He was sure that no one could see him in the darkness but slipped on his magic ring anyway, creeping slowly down the corridor. The closer he got to Thorin’s room, the faster his heart was pounding, the beat of blood in his ears drowning out every other sound. And the closer he got, the less sure he was about what he wanted to do...

He stopped. Maybe he shouldn’t go there at all. Maybe he should stay in his room and cherish this wonderful day full of Thorin’s love for as long as he could... Something bumped into him and he caught a scent he knew, the most wonderful scent of all...

...

Thorin pulled him closer, kissing him gently, carefully and Bilbo didn’t even notice how they got back into his room. The king pressed him against the door as soon as he closed it behind them, one hand behind Bilbo’s neck, the other slipping to his waist. The hobbit’s hands grasped his shirt and pulled him even closer, keeping him there, clutching to him in case he changed his mind and wanted to leave.

Thorin kissed like no one before him. Every single kiss had a meaning, every single one showed that he cared, and every single one of them was filling Bilbo’s heart with joy so profound that he worried that it couldn't take more without bursting. The king broke the kiss, looking at Bilbo intently and the hobbit blinked to drive away the tears that were threatening to come to his eyes. He was so handsome, he had never seen anyone more handsome. He was of noble birth, blood of the kings who were before him running through his veins. And he was his... for this short moment he was his... The king glanced around the room, his gaze stopping on the bed for a moment before turning to Bilbo again.

'I didn’t answer your question,' Bilbo whispered. He had to answer and he had to tell him the truth, otherwise it would kill him. He couldn’t let Thorin go on with this, knowing he was thinking something else about him.

The king was looking at him, not saying anything.

'I-I have...'

And still the king didn’t say a word, he only nodded, his expression not changing at all. Bilbo looked up at him hesitantly, still clutching his shirt. If he decided to leave, Bilbo won’t let him. He won’t let go of him till he had a chance to explain that for the hobbits it was different... But the king didn’t move.

'Won’t you ask me the same question?'

Bilbo winced.

Of course there had to be someone in Thorin’s life as well. The fact that he wasn’t married didn’t mean that... maybe there was someone waiting in the Blue Mountains. A lover he once loved... loved still perhaps with some part of his heart... A woman or a man... He didn’t want to know. If it were a woman he couldn’t compete against her. If she ever decided she wanted Thorin back...

'Have you ever been with... anyone?'

'Yes.'

Bilbo didn’t want to know more. But at the same time he had to know because perhaps it was just for fun, perhaps it didn’t mean anything to the king either...

'What happened to...?' he hesitated, clutching Thorin’s shirt tighter.

The king looked at him and that sadness that always filled his eyes and that disappeared yesterday, was back.

'It’s a sad story, Bilbo. You really want to hear it?'

The hobbit nodded, not looking into his eyes.

'I’ve never told about it to anyone,' Thorin ran his fingers through Bilbo’s hair and over his cheek lightly, 'but I want you to know. To understand...'

Bilbo buried his head in the king’s chest, 'Tell me then...'

**...**

And here he was, sitting on his bed and watching Thorin by the window, the rain gaining strength slowly.

'There was someone, back when I used to live in Erebor...' Thorin broke the silence all of a sudden, still gazing out of the window, as if trying to see the Lonely Mountain in the darkness. 'When we met, I was the same age as Fili is now... I went to the Iron Hills because we have heard that there was a blacksmith there that no one could surpass in his craft. He knew how to forge swords that shone like starlight and were harder than anything you can find in this world because there were parts of stars themselves in them.

My grandfather sent me to bring one of these swords for him and I went gladly because I was curious about the process of forging such a weapon. I met the blacksmith, and he agreed to make a sword for the King under the Mountain. He was my age, barely a man but his hands could create miracles out of anything he touched. He was different, he wasn’t afraid to speak to me... Back then, even the most noble and the most rich kept their distance from me out of respect, because I was Thror’s grandson and one day would become their king. He was neither, he wasn’t rich, he wasn’t noble... He was the first one who spoke to me like I was his equal, first one who wanted to be my friend...

My company and I had stayed in the Iron Hills for weeks, and all that time he worked on the sword and I watched him. He was happy, and chatty, and eager to see everything and make the most wondrous things... He was careless and most of all loved the life itself. He annoyed me so much...' Thorin smiled and turned to Bilbo, 'he was a lot like you, Bilbo.

As the days passed, we became more close. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn't guard for it, but it did... I fell in love with him, with the way he lived. Because when I was with him, I could feel it too, life seeping through my veins... And when the day came he had finished the sword, I didn’t want to leave. He was the only close being I had then...

And as I was taking the sword, saying I will hand it over to the king safely, he said, 'I said I will make a sword for the King under the Mountain and that’s you in my eyes. Not a dwarf who spends his time hoarding gold and treasures... You care for your people, for your kingdom and that’s why only you are my king. Take me with you to Erebor, Thorin... If you want me to make a sword for Thror I will, I will make hundreds of swords for him but take me with you... don’t leave me here with only a memory...'

That was the first time I’ve kissed anyone. And I did bring him with me to the Lonely Mountain and whenever we could, we would be together. It was always a secret, nobody would approve of such a thing, but we didn’t mind. We had each other and that was enough...

But then Smaug came, he came and destroyed everything I’ve ever cared about...

We could have stopped him if the elves helped. Once he was inside, once he couldn’t use his wings anymore, we could have killed him. But the elves didn't help and the dragon went straight deep down to where the treasure was. Where the forges were... And he burnt everything and everyone who got into his way.'

Bilbo’s arms wrapped around his waist and Thorin ran his fingers over them gently.

'That’s why Erebor means so much to me. It was my home, home of my people... And he was right, I always cared about them. And I always thought...' he hesitated, 'that you can only love that much once in your life. And all the loves that came before or will come after are mere shadows... But you... when I am with you, I can feel it again, Bilbo, I can feel life...'

Thorin turned around and brushed his fingers over Bilbo’s cheek and lips.

'I thought you’ll never love me back...'

'You were never more wrong,' Bilbo whispered and as the king kissed him with a small smile, he pressed himself closer to him so that he could feel his heartbeat. He won’t let anything separate them, not even a dragon. No matter how fierce and cruel the creature may be.  

He looked into Thorin’s eyes. He wanted the sadness in them to disappear. And then he remembered that it was not there last night, nor this morning... not even when Thorin looked at him over Beorn’s table during dinner or when he was unbuttoning his shirt by the stream... Perhaps he could make it go away, somehow... perhaps he could.

He reached his hands to where Thorin’s shirt ended, surprised that they were not shaking, and pulled it up slowly. He stood up on his tiptoes, pulling the shirt over the king’s head and Thorin was looking at him silently the whole time, lips slightly parted. He could stop him if he wanted to, he was stronger than the him.

Bilbo let the shirt fall from his fingers as he looked at the king’s chest, breathing heavily. He didn‘t dare to look up at Thorin because he would lose all his courage. He pressed his lips to where Thorin’s heart was beating fast beneath the warm skin and when Thorin didn’t push him away, he slid his hands to his sides, running his fingers over them till they rested on Thorin’s hips.

The king will think him too daring, he will think him dirty... but Bilbo didn’t care. He wanted him to forget about the Lonely Mountain, about the nameless lover, about all the pain he must have felt... and this was the only thing he could think of... So he let his fingers fall to the king’s belt, leaning his forehead on Thorin’s chest in the meantime. A deep moan escaped from Thorin’s lips as Bilbo finally unbuckled it and he could feel him pressing a soft kiss into his hair as his trousers fell quietly to the floor.

'Bilbo,' he breathed, his voice more husky than ever before and the hobbit looked at him. It was gone, the sadness in his eyes was gone, and something else was slowly taking its place... Bilbo stood on his tiptoes and kissed him again and the king’s arms wrapped around him, slipping under his shirt, caressing the smooth skin on the hobbit’s back tentatively. And Bilbo didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly the king was lying on the floor with Bilbo on top of him, the hobbit‘s legs around his hips.

He was too busy discovering how Thorin’s skin felt beneath his lips, how his chest hair seemed to be the softest thing he had ever touched, how their bodies... He turned red when he realized what sort of contact their current position involved and as he in the next moment bent closer to the king to kiss him again, his own hardness rubbed against Thorin’s, only a thin barrier of fabric between them. The dwarf’s eyes flew open as he moaned against Bilbo’s lips. He arched his back lightly and when he next laid again, he scratched his shoulder on his belt.

He took it in his hand, a shadow flashing across his face... And Bilbo saw it too, the emblem on the buckle, the emblem of the Kings under the Mountain...

He took a desperate breath. He couldn’t let him think of that now... He pressed his lips to Thorin’s again, pushing the hand that was holding the belt aside.

'Don’t,' he whispered, his breath brushing Thorin’s lips, 'it’s far away...' He could hear despair in his own voice. He couldn‘t fight all the things of Thorin’s past alone, not the mountain, the dragon, the duty... He moved his hips again and could hear a clinking sound as Thorin dropped the belt, his chest rising with one mighty intake of breath.

Bilbo was watching him, the way his eyes fluttered shut and his body tensed beneath him for a moment... It was all right, he came back to him, he fought it with him...

He bent down once more, letting his lips wonder to Thorin’s throat... he could feel the salty taste of skin that not even the cold water of the stream could have washed away. He tilted his head, caressing his cheek over the dark black hair on Thorin’s chest before licking his lips and moving them to one of the king’s nipples.

He was taking an immense pleasure from the shivers that his every touch seemed to be sending through the king’s body. Bilbo could feel even the slightest one through the places where their bodies touched and it aroused him more than anything else had ever done before. One of Thorin’s hands was running gently through his hair, his eyes closed again, panting... He was letting him do this, he wanted him to make him forget as well...

He ran his tongue over Thorin’s nipple one last time, the king’s hand tightening its grip on his hair for a moment, and moved between the dwarf’s knees, kissing his way down to his belly. His eyes fell on Thorin’s hardness and... oh, heavens... He took a deep breath, breathing out slowly little by little. Only yesterday he wouldn’t have dared to think that a day might come when he would be allowed to touch the king, let alone caress him on such an intimate place...

But he couldn’t stop now. He will make Thorin feel good, he will make him forget about everyone else, everything else, there will be only Bilbo’s touches burnt into his memory...

He closed his fingers around Thorin and moved them slowly, gently.

'Bilbo...' Thorin panted, his cheeks flushed, his whole body glistening with sweat... his wonderful, wonderful body... Bilbo was mesmerized, he was the only one in the world allowed to do this, to see the king sighing with pleasure and it was intoxicating. He pressed his wet lips to the tip of the king’s hardness, brushing his tongue slowly over it.

Thorin half shouted, half sighed his name, arching his back again, tilting his head to the back. Bilbo more felt it than saw it and he smiled, letting his fingers join his tongue. Thorin grabbed the closest thing and clutched it, burying his teeth into it and Bilbo realized it was his shirt. It was strangely exhilarating, he had gotten Thorin like this and he was now pressing his lips to his shirt... He could feel his own excitement rising, no one was touching him and yet... He felt it all through Thorin’s body, the way he caressed him was coming back to him in form of shivers and pants and moans and it was driving him to the edge... He didn’t know that was possible...

Thorin’s breath was becoming more and more frantic just like his own and then the king suddenly arched his hips up, shouting words Bilbo didn’t understand and the hobbit could feel him come with every single cell in his own body. He felt him hot in his mouth, he heard his ragged breath, he felt his body pulsating everywhere it touched his, he saw him shivering, reaching for him and pulling him in his arms, wet strands of hair sticking to his cheeks and forehead... He was telling him something but Bilbo didn’t hear. The moment the king embraced him, he caught a whiff of that enchanting scent that only belonged to Thorin and all the butterflies in his stomach surged without warning, sending him towards his own climax, a wave of pleasure sweeping him with the mightiest force... 


	6. Dozing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6, in which Thorin and Bilbo go for a walk toooo... observe the nature... ;)

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 6 - Dozing

'I think it can’t do any harm if we stay one more night and get well rested before starting for Mirkwood,' Balin said in his quiet voice and put a pipe to his lips.

'Not to mention,' Gloin added, eyeing Thorin carefully, 'that it would be very rude of us to leave without thanking Beorn. And since he’s not here...'

'Don’t forget we can’t find the wizard!' Bofur called as he passed the veranda where they were sitting, carrying an armful of fishing rods.

'Ah, yes!' Gloin smiled happily, 'we can’t leave without Gandalf either...'

Thorin was watching the others fishing by the stream, all of them already holding two or three rods, as if wondering what did they need more for.

Bilbo glanced at him from his plate. They were sitting on a bench next to each other, the king’s hand resting comfortably on Bilbo’s leg, Balin and Gloin opposite them.

'Fine,' Thorin said at last, 'we’ll stay one more night.'

Gloin laughed enthusiastically and jumped from the bench to join the others, Balin following him with a soft smile and in a much more dignified manner.

Thorin sighed, and ran his fingers absent-mindedly over Bilbo’s thigh, sending a shiver through the hobbit’s body.

'Nothing will get them out of here, when there’s so many things to eat...'

Bilbo smiled and finished his bread covered with a generous layer of honey. He still found it incredible, blissful even, the way Thorin seemed to be at complete ease with him now. Like they had known each other their entire lives and this was just one more ordinary day in their long journey together.

He woke up that morning wrapped in Thorin’s arms, the sun shining into his eyes, as if yesterday’s storm was just a dream. He blinked, realizing that he felt wonderfully warm and contended and looked at the king’s arm that laid across his chest. It was so much stronger than his, suntanned and big, in huge contrast to his own white skin... Only then did he realize that was naked. When did that happen?

He vaguely remembered the room being too warm at some point during the night and him wanting to unbutton his shirt a little... and then the king’s hands suddenly replacing his, pulling his shirt, pants and everything down but he didn’t mind... The chill of the night was way too pleasant on his naked skin. Oh...

He dozed off again and when next he woke, he was cold and snuggled to Thorin, the king’s skin warming him up better than any coat or fire could have ever done. Thorin embraced him, kissing him gently and Bilbo was lost in sleep once more.

Bilbo closed his eyes now to block the sun and buried his head in the pillow. He was wondering whether Thorin was awake but the king was lying motionless, his chest pressed to Bilbo’s back rising and falling in regular pattern. Well, he won’t move either then. He won’t disturb him. And he had to admit... everything was absolutely perfect right where he was.

He assumed from the way Thorin was holding him, that he wasn’t mad at him for the way he distracted him yesterday. Bilbo smiled, pressing his face deeper into the pillow. The world was a beautiful, marvellous place with Thorin in it...

His stomach rumbled and he heard the dwarf’s quiet chuckle. He turned around quickly in Thorin’s arms to see him smiling at him, his eyes twinkling beneath the ruffled hair. The king bent down and kissed him.

'I think we may be too late for breakfast, dear Bilbo. Though if we hurry we may be right on time for lunch.'

Bilbo looked at him, surely they haven’t slept for so long? But the sun was indeed quite high in the sky... Well, what did that matter? He never wanted to leave this bed, not even to get some food. A thought, he realized suddenly, that had never crossed his mind before, in his entire life. Nothing had ever been more important than good food...

'We can stay here, I’m not hungry,' he whispered, his voice all hoarse, snuggling closer to Thorin.

'You may not be hungry but you must eat something,' Thorin’s fingers were running through Bilbo’s hair again, 'you’ve gotten so thin...'

Bilbo smiled, 'So I don’t look like a grocer anymore?'

'A grocer?'

'That’s what you told me when we first met.'

Thorin laughed, pressing a soft kiss to Bilbo’s hair. And Bilbo’s cheeks blushed with pleasure; not only was he the only one allowed to touch the king, he was probably also the only one who got to hear him laugh like that.

'No, you don’t look like a grocer anymore,' Thorin pulled him closer. 'More like a burglar now. My burglar...'

...

'Morning,' Dwalin’s deep voice brought him back from his memories. The warrior was sleeping even longer than them. His gaze fell on Bilbo, then on Thorin next to him, on the king’s arm hidden beneath the table and back to Bilbo again. A small smile appeared on his lips and Bilbo turned red, realizing that Dwalin guessed perfectly well what had happened between them during the night.

They both greeted him, Thorin watching his friend in a strange way. He went to Dwalin’s room after they finally got out of the bed and when he then sat down next to Bilbo at the table on the veranda, there was a slightly disturbed expression on his face. The only thing that crossed Bilbo’s mind was that perhaps he didn’t knock and surprised Dwalin and Ori in some... rather private situation. He just muttered, 'He’s still... in bed.' as he sat down and looked at the food the others had left for them.

Bilbo wanted to ask where the little dwarf was, but then he saw him suddenly appearing near his brothers by the stream, before vanishing into Beorn’s gardens with his journal. He turned around once, his gaze falling on Dwalin and as he caught Bilbo’s eye he smiled widely, happily.

Bilbo wanted to go after him, he wanted to ask about his night, he wanted to tell him about his own, but Thorin’s hand was still on his thigh and it felt fairly good. So even though it was a little selfish of him, he stayed right where he was.

...

Bilbo was walking quietly next to Thorin, the king lost in his thoughts. The day was pleasantly warm and everywhere he looked something was in bloom, smelling wonderfully.

They had a truly nice lunch, too. The king, Dwalin and Balin spent a good deal of it planning which way they should take to get to Mirkwood and pass through it as quickly as possible. Bilbo didn’t really care all that much, if it were up to him, he wouldn’t even go there in the first place. It sounded way too dangerous and hostile and after yesterday’s night he found himself sharing Thorin’s dislike for the elves...

He stayed by the table however because whenever he stood up to go somewhere or bring something, Thorin’s anxious gaze followed him. Where he didn’t care about him before, he now seemed intent not to let the hobbit out of his sight and thus assure his safety. Bilbo didn't mind in the slightest...

'Walk with me, Mr. Baggins,' the king stood up from the bench, looking at him. Startled, Bilbo realized that the other two dwarves lit their pipes, the planning obviously finished. Oh... they’ll notice he wasn’t paying any attention...

He got up as well, following Thorin through the main hall of Beorn’s vast house, out of the main door and up the path they came yesterday. They passed most of the company in front of the house, the dwarves laying on the grass after the lunch, basking in the sun, snoring... And all that time Thorin didn’t say a word. Bilbo padded next to him, the sun warming his back. He saw lilies of the valley, blooming peacefully between trees next to the path, they grew close to the Bag End, too... He hesitated. He hasn’t thought about his home even once in the past two days...

'Tell me about it,' Thorin broke the silence and when Bilbo looked at him, surprised, he added, 'your Shire. I haven’t really seen much of it...' The king closed the distance between them, cupping Bilbo’s cheeks, 'You were thinking about it now, weren't you? You always seemed so happy when you were telling Ori about it... I want that smile back.'

He bent down and brushed his lips over Bilbo’s, making the hobbit blush instantly.

'It-it's just that there are lilies of the valley growing by the path leading to Bag End,' he said, looking at the white blossoms again, 'you must have passed them, they always make the whole place look as if snow had fallen... Though, they are spring flowers, they don’t bloom in Hobbiton this time of year like here...' He wondered how that was possible...

'You love it there,' Thorin said, gazing intently into Bilbo’s eyes.

'Yes,' Bilbo nodded with a smile.

Thorin took a deep breath as if to say something but then changed his mind, reaching out for Bilbo’s hand instead. 'Come,' he said, leaving the path.

They forced their way through branches of the spruces and pines and came to a small clearing, near which a small waterfall bubbled, and Bilbo realized that somewhere up there must be the spring of the stream in which he bathed yesterday. He breathed deeply, taking in the wonderful smell of flowers and wood warmed up by the sun.

'How did you find it here?' he turned to Thorin, amazed.

'Haven’t you seen it yesterday when we passed? If you look carefully from the path, you can see it.'

Bilbo turned red. There were completely different things on his mind then, too important to him to actually notice anything else. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, suddenly shy. He looked at the king where he was gazing at the water flowing lazily around their clearing, his heart pounding.

'Thorin...'

'Hmm?'

'Why did you bring me here?'

The king looked at him and walked to him slowly. 'So that we wouldn’t be disturbed...' That was true, ever since Thorin came down that morning, there was always someone who wanted to talk to him about something. And he couldn’t very well send them off, because they were all important things. But Thorin always seemed to find a way how to touch Bilbo, he had his hand on the hobbit’s leg when they sat, and on his shoulder or the small of his back when they stood... But that wasn’t enough. That wasn’t enough at all. '...should we want to...'

Bilbo looked up at him, clutching Thorin’s shirt at his sides. Was he really suggesting them making love in the middle of the forest, with only the stream burbling quietly next to them, the warm sun caressing their skins? A mighty desire filled him and he slipped his arms around Thorin’s neck, kissing him passionately. And the king kissed him back, pulling him closer, stripping Bilbo’s shirt in one quick motion. The hobbit was breathing heavily as Thorin’s hands started to wander over his skin tenderly, his head spinning lightly...

But then Thorin’s arms tightened around him all of a sudden and he fell to the ground with him. Before Bilbo could in any way complain he heard it too. Someone’s footsteps were approaching them.

'I can’t believe you’re still hungry.' Fili’s voice. Bilbo nearly yelped. If he sees them like this-

'Not necessarily now, but you wait, they’ll be delicious in the evening.' Nori.

'Did we have to go all this way?' Kili. Oh dear, oh dear, both of them. Both of Thorin’s nephews...

'You can’t catch an eel where the stream is running too fast, you need a nice calm spot,' Nori retorted, 'like here...'

Bilbo heard them stop and when he looked, he could see them not far from where he and the king were hidden in the bushes. If they are really quiet, perhaps they could sneak away without being seen. Now, where was his shirt?

Thorin’s arm closed around his waist one more time and as the king sat up, leaning on the tree, getting deeper in the shrubs, he pulled Bilbo on his lap, so that they both had a clear view of the fishing dwarves without being seen.

'Don’t move, they’d hear us...' Thorin’s hot breath brushed his ear. A pang of disappointment ran through Bilbo. If they hadn’t turn up...

Thorin adjusted him a little, sitting him between his thighs and the hobbit leaned his back on Thorin’s chest. He dropped his head a little, they’ll have to wait here for heavens know how long... The king's lips kissed his neck suddenly, following a straight path to Bilbo’s throat. Bilbo took a shaky breath, they can’t do that now, his nephews were right-

The king’s arms embraced him and while one was running over his chest, the other slipped to Bilbo’s pants. The hobbit breathed out hard, his hand reaching for Thorin’s but all the strength had left him, excitement taking its place. This was so wrong, so improper, so thrilling...

'Thorin...' he panted.

'Shhh.'

'I won’t be able to stay quiet,' he whispered as Thorin unbuttoned his trousers.

'You’ll have to.' Thorin’s hot breath on his ear again and Bilbo could have sworn he heard him smiling. The king’s hand slipped into his trousers, his warm and strong fingers wrapping around him instantly. Bilbo breathed out, digging his nails into Thorin’s hand. His heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure the dwarves had to be deaf not to hear it. And then the king’s other hand slipped into Bilbo’s pants, caressing his-

Bilbo’s eyes opened wide and if he could have he would have screamed, he would have ran away, never again being able to look into Thorin’s eyes. No one’s ever...

'Shhh,' the king’s deep, husky voice. And Bilbo tried, he tried very hard to stay quiet as both Thorin’s hands were caressing him now but with each stroke it became more and more difficult. The king’s lips had found his ear and were kissing it now in the most arousing way.

'Thorin, please...' If he doesn’t stop now, he won’t be able to control himself anymore, he will moan and pant and shout Thorin’s name and he won't care at all. He was reaching the point where nothing in the world mattered more than Thorin and him, where nothing else was worth his attention.

'Did you hear something?' Fili’s voice. Bilbo’s eyes flew open and he saw him looking in their direction.

'Sounded like a rabbit to me,' Nori answered.

'Yeah, definitely a rabbit,' Kili agreed and Fili turned back again, evidently satisfied.

And all the while, Thorin’s fingers were fondling the hobbit, Bilbo’s body shivering, droplets of sweat making their way over his skin. The world was slowly being obscured by a white veil, there were no more trees, or dwarves, or birds... He stopped worrying, he wanted Thorin to never stop touching him like that, he wanted him to hold him in his arms when he came, hold him tight... 

His chest was heaving now, he kept grinding his feet into the soft ground because it was the only way how to get all those feeling out without scratching Thorin’s arms or drawing someone’s attention to them. He could hear the king’s breath by his ear, ragged and deep.

He was getting close, a beautiful heat spreading through him, 'Thorin-'

As he with one last stroke sent Bilbo over the edge, Thorin pressed his lips to Bilbo's, and any words or sounds that might have escaped the hobbit were drowned in their kiss.

Bilbo could feel waves of pleasure and happiness flowing through him, making his whole body shiver in the sweetest way, Thorin’s strong hands not letting go of him for even a moment and as he collapsed into his arms, he let his head fall back onto the king’s shoulder. He opened his eyes, the sky above him the most dazzling shade of blue, the branches of trees whispering quietly in the wind, lulling him into sleep...

And as he started to fall into a doze, Thorin chuckled and kissed him one more time, whispering, 'Sleep now, my little bunny...'  


	7. Divided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7, in which Bilbo is worried, Thorin breaks a promise and all the lights go out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deep apologies for the delay...

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 7 - Divided

Bilbo was sitting on his bed, looking at Thorin’s things neatly laid next to his own. He could hear the king’s and Gandalf’s quiet voices coming from the corridor but he only understood one word and it sent shivers running down his spine.

Mirkwood.

Just the mere name was giving him goose bumps now.

He didn‘t want to go there. He didn’t want Thorin anywhere near that place either, or anyone else from their company for that matter. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that something bad was going to happen in the elven realm... He didn’t know exactly what or to whom, but by now he cared about every single dwarf equally so it didn’t make any difference.

Until that evening he simply attributed the dwarves‘ dislike for Mirkwood to their hatred for the elves, but during dinner that evening even Beorn said the place was wicked and evil, full of foul creatures...

A smile flickered on Bilbo‘s lips suddenly as he remembered the meal. They were all crowded around the huge table in the main hall and the shape-shifter finally joined them after a whole day of being away. Bilbo saw Gandalf eating fishes with them at noon but then the wizard disappeared again and didn’t come back till they laid the roasted eels on the table. He seemed very delighted to find so much food waiting for him.

'So, you like my house?' their host was asking, pleased.

'Very much, indeed,' Gandalf answered, chewing on his eel, 'I must say I haven’t slept this splendidly in months. How about you, my dear Ori? Had a _good_ night?' Gandalf turned to the little dwarf next to him, and poor Ori turned red, twitched and nodded slightly.

Gandalf chuckled, 'I always say, it is not how long you sleep, it is where you sleep.' Bilbo could see Dwalin moving a little closer to Ori, staring at the wizard as if waiting for him to continue so that he could act should Gandalf reveal too much. The hobbit glanced at Dori and Nori but both of them were too deeply taken by the fishes on their plates.

It is not how long you sleep, it is where you sleep... Bilbo lowered his eyes to the table, feeling his own cheeks blushing. He wondered whether Gandalf also knew that Thorin and he had spent the night in his room together...

'Quite right, too!' Beorn nodded, smiling, 'How about you, king Thorin, you slept well?'

Bilbo could feel Thorin’s hand tightening its grip on his leg as he looked at him briefly, before frowning at their host. 'Yes,' the king growled, 'what of-'

'And how about you, my dear Bilbo?' Gandalf intervened before Thorin could start any unnecessary hostilities and Bilbo was rather grateful for that. They wouldn't want to offend someone like Beorn. 'You have a very healthy colour this evening, I noticed the moment I saw you.'

'That’s not surprising!' Beorn laughed, 'He’s been eating my honey the whole day!'

Bilbo turned even more red, his gaze fixed firmly on his plate. He had eaten quite a lot, that was true... but only because Thorin was always bringing him something, insisting he ate it all so that he would have strength for the journey...

No sooner had Beorn finished his sentence than Thorin’s hand left Bilbo’s thigh and the king stood up, glaring at their host, no doubt preparing to start yelling at him. Bilbo’s arm shot up so quickly that it surprised even him, closing around Thorin’s wrist and pulling him back down on the bench. Thorin should really do something with this temper of his, the others will start to wonder... But nobody was paying them any attention, they were all deep in their own conversations and concerns. Naturally. Dwarves. Were there hobbits at the table, they would have both been showered with questions by now...

Thorin settled for glaring then and his hand slipped back on Bilbo’s leg. And the hobbit couldn’t help but smile at his plate where half his bread with honey still laid... Could it be that he was also the only one who could stop Thorin from doing something and get away with it?

...

'That’s settled then,' Gandalf’s voice sounded closer to Bilbo’s door now and the hobbit perched himself at the edge of his bed. 'Goodnight, Thorin.' A door opened in the corridor. 'And don’t forget to say goodnight to Bilbo from me.' Bilbo could not see him, but he was sure that the wizard winked at the king just then.

Gandalf’s door closed and there was silence. And an uneasy feeling started to settle over the hobbit. Maybe Thorin didn't want to come to him, maybe he sneaked into his room during the day to place his things there for any other reason than spending the night there with him... Maybe Bilbo was supposed to carry Thorin’s things now. Back on the Carrock Dwalin had given him the king’s cloak after all, and the warrior knew perfectly well how they both felt about each other. Yes, maybe it was expected of him now that they were... they were... lovers... a pair...

His door opened quietly and Thorin entered, closing it behind him again and looking at Bilbo. And under his gaze, the hobbit's heart started to pound feverishly.

'The wizard says goodnight...'

Bilbo was looking back at him and slowly, against his will, a small smile spread across his lips. Thorin was standing in front of him in his whole majesty, frowning, his arms crossed on his chest. He looked very much like all those times he had scolded Bilbo after the hobbit had done something reckless or undwarflike. But it wasn’t him he was cross with this time. That frown belonged to someone else. Thorin would never look at him like that again, because he loved him...

He walked to him slowly and wrapped his arms around the dwarf’s waist. 'Thorin,' he whispered, clutching the king’s shirt, 'let’s not walk trough Mirkwood, I'm begging you...'

The king’s fingers slipped under his chin, forcing him softly to look up at him. 'Why not?'

Bilbo felt suddenly very silly. It was just a feeling, how often did his hunches come true? ... Often, that was the trouble... 'I can’t explain it... but I have this feeling that something bad is going to happen to us in there. Maybe... maybe we could walk around the forest?'

Thorin shook his head, 'We can’t do that, it would take too long. By the time we would reach the mountain, the winter would be upon us...'

'Then...' Bilbo looked into Thorin’s eyes. He wanted to say that they could spend the winter here and then set off around Mirkwood in the spring but he knew that wouldn’t do. Thorin said that the others had certainly read the signs too, there will be other dwarves on their way as well... They had to hurry and the path through Mirkwood was the fastest...

Thorin was gazing into his eyes and then kissed him gently, 'Don’t be afraid, Bilbo, if anything happens there, I will protect you.'

'Do you promise you won’t leave me?'

'How could you think that?' Thorin was looking at him, sadness flashing through his eyes.

'I’m...'  Bilbo dropped his gaze, this was hard to admit but he could tell the king anything now, couldn’t he? 'I’m afraid, Thorin... of that forest, of what Beorn and Gandalf were saying about it, it’s an evil place where anything can happen. What if something separates us there? I couldn’t bear it... What if-'

Thorin’s lips met his with crushing force, his hands grasping Bilbo’s upper arms and pulling him closer. 'I promise I won’t leave you. No matter what happens there, I won’t leave you.'

Bilbo felt his heart beating frantically. He opened his mouth but could not get any sound past his lips. He felt such a deep and profound love for Thorin that he couldn’t even put it into words. It was filling every little part of his mind, pushing everything else aside, taking over his entire being...

Thorin smiled at him tenderly. 'Don’t think about it now,' he took Bilbo’s hand in his, 'Come, let me distract you the way you did last night.'

*****

'At all costs stick to Thorin, Bilbo,' Gandalf was saying, his face unusually serious, 'and don’t let the dwarves do anything foolish like leaving the path or drinking the water from Mirkwood’s rivers. I shall see you soon if all goes well.'

Bilbo nodded, hugged the wizard, and then watched him canter back to Beorn’s house with their borrowed ponies. He turned around, walking slowly to his companions, noticing as he did so that Ori felt just as uneasy about entering the forest as him.

The path upon which they were standing seemed to disappear few metres ahead of them, the strange green gloom of Mirkwood wreathing it. Bilbo reached Thorin’s side, fighting the urge to touch him or kiss him, to let some of his courage pass onto him.

'We’ll secure the back, uncle,' Fili said, looking at the ancient trees, his face reflecting the anxiety of all of them.

'No, you two stay close behind me. Dwalin will cover the back,' Thorin retorted in his powerful voice, glancing at the warrior who nodded. Kili shot him a hurt look, probably thinking that Thorin didn’t deem them responsible enough for such thing in the middle of the elvish kingdom. But Bilbo knew that the only reason why Thorin wanted them at the front with him, was to keep an eye on them in case something really did happen. He knew he loved his nephews very much.

He asked about them yesterday, curled on Thorin’s chest, after he had regained the ability to speak coherently. And the king had told him quite a lot of stories about the boys‘ childhood, about all the mischief they used to get themselves into and how they would run to uncle Thorin afterwards when they were little, and away from uncle Thorin when they got older.

'I could afford to spoil them when their father was alive, he was the strict one then,' Thorin told him, running his fingers absent-mindedly through Bilbo’s hair. 'But when he died, I had to take his role, making sure they grew up right so that he could be proud of them...'

Bilbo looked up at him. Thorin’s eyes were unfocused, like he was somewhere far away... 'What was he like?'

The king smiled, 'Fili looks a lot like him. Sometimes when I look at him, I think I can see his father. He was a dear friend of mine and I couldn’t approve more when he married my sister... Kili’s got almost nothing of him... except perhaps his cheerful nature. Yeah, he was like that, too, not taking all that many things seriously...'

Bilbo watched the young dwarves now, standing side by side. He wished their father could see them, he would be proud of them for sure...

'Let’s go,' Thorin commanded and one by one they dove into Mirkwood’s green light.

*****

'Oh, this was such a bad, bad idea...' Bilbo sighed quietly, staring into the complete darkness around him and not seeing even his own hand as he waved it in front of his eyes. Why, oh why didn’t they listen to Gandalf? He said many times that they should never leave the path. They did and where did it take them? They were lost, starving, chasing through the damned forest after lights that went out every time they got near...

So in darkness they were sitting now, waiting for the daylight that was still far away. He leaned against the tree trunk behind him. Damn Gloin and his clever ideas! Were it nor for him they wouldn’t be in this mess. But at least they managed to find each other and knew they were all there, safe and uninjured.

Thorin was sitting pressed to him, his fingers intertwined with Bilbo’s, grunting silently in agreement. On his other side Ori was huddled, shivering and just as Bilbo thought that perhaps he should give him his coat, the little dwarf’s hand reached for his. And Bilbo held it, squeezing it lightly, realizing that Ori wasn’t shivering because he was cold, he was scared... Scared because his Dwalin was somewhere in that darkness, hidden from his eyes and Ori couldn’t hold his hand.

Bilbo laid his head on Thorin’s shoulder. What if they never get out of this forest? What will happen to them then? Part of him was hoping that Gandalf will suddenly appear, driving the darkness away with the light of his staff, but part of him knew it won’t happen. The wizard was far and could not help them now. They were all alone...

He closed his eyes, remembering the butterflies he had seen when he climbed the tree to try and see the end of the forest. If he tried, he could recall the sound of their wings, the quiet flutter... Maybe they had been a good omen, maybe in the morning something good will happen and they will get out of this cursed place... They were so beautiful and big, the butterflies in the Shire were much smaller and shyer... these ones even sat on his hand when he held it out. He wondered what the butterflies inside him were like, the ones that only listened to Thorin’s command, to his touch. He remembered the way the king was touching him last night... there wasn’t a place left on his body that Thorin’s lips didn’t touch...

'They are back! Look!' Bofur’s quiet voice sounded in the darkness and Bilbo’s eyes flew open. And there they were, those wicked lights that had brought them here... All around him he could hear his companions shifting, searching for the tiny lights in the darkness as well.

He could feel Thorin squeezing his hand lightly as he stood up, 'All right,' he said, his voice tired, 'let’s try again. I’ll go first this time.'

Bilbo clang to his fingers, he won’t let him go there alone. Thorin said they will always be together, he can’t leave him here and go to the lights all by himself. They didn’t know what they were, they could hurt him. 'Thorin, don’t...'

He reached for him with his other hand as well, letting go of Ori, knowing the little dwarf was safe where they were.

'Don’t go there alone,' he whispered and could feel the king’s breath brushing his cheek.

'It will be all right,' Thorin whispered back, kissing him, 'stay close to me.' He pressed his lips to Bilbo’s again, his kiss more passionate this time and the hobbit kissed him back desperately. It will not be all right, nothing good will come from those lights, he knew it...

But he followed Thorin and the others silently through the wood anyway, crouching finally behind a fallen tree. Bilbo could see them for a while now, but the dwarves only now realized that beneath those lights the elves were dancing, celebrating.

'I guess I can try and talk to them,' Thorin whispered and all the others eagerly agreed. A panic seized Bilbo, they can’t let him do that!

He grasped the king’s hand firmly. 'I’ll go with you,' he breathed out.

Thorin shook his head, 'Stay, you’re safe here.'

Bilbo was watching him, tears prickling in his eyes, 'You promised...'

The king brushed his fingers over the hobbit's cheek, 'I’ll be right back.'

He freed his fingers from Bilbo’s, stood up and went to the elves, the eyes of his whole company following him. He walked slowly through the bushes and fern and still the lights were shining. But as soon as he reached the illuminated circle and stepped into it, he collapsed, the lights falling to the ground with him, vanishing.

Bilbo screamed and ran after him, but someone’s strong arms caught him and pulled him back. There was a silence for the scariest moment, as they all looked around in the darkness, listening, trying to figure out what happened. But then Dwalin’s strong voice suddenly shouted, 'Spiders!!!' and everyone started moving at once, something round and hairy knocking Bilbo down...


	8. Dungeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8, in which Thorin is taken captive and silent steps sound through the night.....

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 8 - Dungeon

Thorin did not dream. It took thirty years for the nightmares to stop after Erebor was taken by Smaug, but slowly dreams started to disappear from the king’s life, leaving at least his nights peaceful.

But this was no ordinary sleep, this was an enchanted sleep put upon him by the king of the Wood elves himself. Thranduil. Thorin hated him with his whole heart, his hatred for the elf almost matching the one he felt for the dragon. One destroyed his home, the other the last bit of hope he still had then to stop the vile creature and save his people...

He remembered approaching the circle of lights in the darkness of Mirkwood, leaving behind his companions. Fili and Kili were close to Dwalin, he would keep an eye on them if anything happened. And Bilbo... Bilbo was next to Gloin and Balin, he should be safe too.

He stepped into the light, and as soon as his foot sank into the soft moss there, an immense fatigue took hold of him and he fell the the ground exhausted as never before. Almost as if all the worries and weariness of the past years merged into one mighty wave, and it washed over him, leaving him comletely drained of strength.

When he woke, he wasn’t quite sure where he was but he saw the elven king soon enough. The piercing blue eyes of the elf bore into his, the king asking him hundreds of questions and as Thorin's initial confusion passed, anger took its place. He understood from Thranduil’s words that the elves did not take his companions captive and at first was glad about that. But then he remembered that they were all starving and were without water for two days when they decided to follow the lights. And anger filled him. He was angry with the elves because they left the others alone in the forest to starve to death. He was angry that they took him because he would have much rather died with his companions... But mostly, he was angry with himself.

He was the one who got them into this, all of them, most importantly Bilbo. His Bilbo... The hobbit knew something was going to happen, he warned him but Thorin didn’t listen. Bilbo asked him to walk around Mirkwood and he told him there was no time. Well, where was the time they spared now? He will be in the elvish prison for heavens know how long, he might never see any of his companions again...

Thranduil got angry as well, patience not being his strongest virtue. He lost his temper when Thorin refused to tell him why the dwarves came into his forest and what was their purpose. He descended from his carved wooden throne with quick steps and got way too close to Thorin for the dwarf’s liking.

'Very well,' he breathed through gritted teeth, 'I shall keep you here as my prisoner till you decide to answer my questions.' He raised his hand, the same fatigue as before taking Thorin into deep sleep.

And that's when he had the dream... He saw someone small running through dark tunnels, he could hear him cry with fear and at first thought it was Fili or Kili when they were little. But this one's hair was too light and curly for that. Something was chasing the small being, creatures so dark and awful that even the orcs looked like tamed pets next to them. He knew where he was running, he was running to the centre of the mountain because Thorin told him he will be there, waiting for him, that he will be safe with him. But he wasn’t there, he was watching it all from above and knew the little one was running in vain. There was no safety waiting for him, the dark creatures will get him... He tried to shout, he tried to warn him but knew he could not hear his voice... And still the hobbit was running. The hobbit...

Thorin woke, panting heavily, drenched in sweat, the visions from his dream hunting him still... He looked around and saw that he was in a cell. It wasn’t all that bad. Big enough, carved in a rock, with no windows only a small opening in the ceiling on one side through which the light was pouring in, just as well as water. A spring must have been somewhere up there, the water making its way down over one of Thorin’s cell walls, creating a small waterfall and disappearing again in an opening in the ground.

He got up and buried his head in the water, the chill of it lifting the remains of Thranduil’s spell completely. The opening in the ground was too narrow for him to fit in and he couldn’t climb to the opening above because the neverending flow of water had covered the wall beneath it with a slimy layer...

He kept his head there though, his fingers digging into the slime. He broke his promise. There in Beorn’s house he promised Bilbo that he will never leave him... And yet he left him standing by that fallen tree, scared, with tears in his eyes... The hobbit wanted to go with him but Thorin stopped him. If only he had allowed it, then at least they would  be together now. He wouldn’t be hunted by images of terrible creatures chasing him... Because he knew such things really lived in the Mirkwood forest, he had seen their eyes many times during the nights... What will be with his little Bilbo now? But maybe his companions found their way out of the forest by now, maybe Gandalf came and helped them... 

*****

'Changed your mind yet, Thorin, son of Thrain?' Thranduil was standing by the door of his cell, hands crossed over his chest, looking at the dwarf with haughty eyes.

Thorin didn’t respond, still sitting motionless on his bed. What did he expect? That he will tell him everything after mere few days?

'I see,' the elf purred, 'well, perhaps one of your companions will be more talkative.'

'My companions?' Thorin repeated, seemingly disinterested, a little hope rising in him. If they took them captive then at least they were alive, perhaps they will put them somewhere near him and they will be able to think of a way out.

'Yes, your dwarf companions.'

Thorin looked at him, shifting a little on is bed, 'Dwarf companions?' Surely they could recognize a hobbit?

'Yes, dwarf companions,' Thranduil repeated as well, apparently annoyed, 'twelve dwarves. Or are you trying to tell me that there are more dwarves running around my kingdom? What game do you play?'

Thorin jumped to his feet. Twelve? But... where was Bilbo? What happened to him? Did they miss him by accident in the forest or was he hurt? Or was he... A cold shiver ran through Thorin. Where was his little hobbit...? He had to find him, even if it was last thing he did, he had to find him! A despair so deep filled him, that he ran to the door, hitting it with such a mighty blow that the hinges creaked and the wood broke at places. The elven king jumped back in surprise, looking back at him with shocked expression. And as Thorin prepared for another blow, he caught Thranduil’s eye, the elf rising his hand and the dwarven king collapsed to ground again...

*****

Lying on his bed, Thorin kept listening to the noises of the night. He laid as motionless as possible, so that the chain that was binding his wrist to the wall wouldn’t tinkle. Thranduil demanded the chain to be put on him after his sudden attack on the door. It was long enough to allow him to move around his cell but too short for him to reach the door again... But that didn’t mean that he didn’t try. He spent every waking moment of the previous day trying to wrench the chain out of the wall and stopped only when he fell down exhausted, his wrist bleeding...

He laid there then, breathing heavily and it seemed to him that somewhere down the corridor, far from his cell, silent footsteps could be heard. As if someone small and capable of moving quietly was walking there looking for something, taking few steps at a time, then stopping as if listening and then taking few steps again. Thorin stood up, trying to see through the barred opening in his door and even though he was far, one torch was illuminating the corridor and he could see it well. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not see a single soul there.

Sitting back on his bed, he thought that perhaps he only imagined it. That those steps only sounded like Bilbo’s... How would the little hobbit even get inside the elvish prison in the first place? He would have to be invisible... But those steps never got near him, they never entered the corridor...

He heard it then, someone weeping quietly in the darkness of his dungeon. He couldn’t hear it well but the sound was breaking his heart...

Because as he listened to the silent sobbing, he knew that somewhere out there in the forest, Bilbo was all alone and scared too, maybe crying as well... He had seen him crying before, even though Bilbo tried to hide it from him... Back when he shouted at him after the trolls had caught them... and then in the Misty Mountains when he yelled at him after he nearly fell down... Yes, the little hobbit had already shed way too many tears on their journey, and all because of him...

Given one more chance, he would have done it differently, he would have treated him better... He would have courted him according to the customs, he would respect him, never touch him the way he had until they were acknowledged by the others as a couple, he would never leave him alone...

A new rage filled Thorin and he started to fight with the chain again, and when he finished, he could hear the crying no more...

...

The whole next day Thorin listened for the quiet footsteps because if he heard them again, thinking of Bilbo wouldn‘t hurt that much. If he heard them, he could imagine that Bilbo was there, safe and sound, looking for him in the elven halls... But he could only hear the elves because as he understood from their talk, down where he was kept were their cellars with food and wine.

When the night came, he laid on his bed, listening still and once the elves had gone, the footsteps could be heard again. Walking in the same cautious manner as yesterday but this time Thorin heard a muffled sound, almost as if something heavy was being pushed away and then the steps started to get closer, padding silently, stopping every now and then and then they suddenly started to run, reaching his door. Thorin stood up from his bed, staring viciously at the door as he had no idea what was the newcomer’s purpose in coming there.

'Thorin!' a familiar voice whispered and the hobbit’s curly head appeared out of nowhere in the opening, looking at him with eyes full of relief and happiness.

The king hesitated, not entirely sure whether he had gone mad or not. Did he wish for this to happen so often that his mind was playing tricks on him now? But he could see him, as clearly as ever, he really was there... 'Bilbo...' he breathed out and rushed to the door, the chain stopping him abruptly.

The hobbit pressed himself to the bars, reaching one hand through them towards the king but still neither of them could reach the other. Thorin pulled with all his force, his eyes never leaving his burglar.

'Stop it!' Bilbo shrieked suddenly, withdrawing his hand and it flashed through Thorin’s mind that perhaps some elf got hold of the hobbit, pulling him from the door and he jerked his hand even harder. 'You’re hurting yourself!'

Thorin stopped. He was talking to him, wide eyes looking at his hand... The king turned around and saw that the shackle had cut into his hand, blood dripping from his fingers.

'I’ll get you something from Oin, they’ve left them all their things except for weapons and I’ll-'

'Bilbo,' the king interrupted him, looking back at him intently, searching for any sign of harm or illness, 'are you all right?'

The hobbit looked taken aback, almost as if it was a very silly question he had just asked. Bilbo wasn’t the one in prison, chained to the wall, 'Yes. And you? Are you hurt somewhere else? I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner, I didn’t know there’s a corridor hidden behind the barrels until Dwalin told me to look here...'

Thorin let his gaze fall to the floor. Bilbo was apologizing... he left him in the forest and Bilbo was apologizing...

'I’m the one who’s sorry...' he said, 'I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you...'

The hobbit beamed, 'It’s all right, we’re together now.'

Thorin raised his eyes to him, and for the first time in so many years he felt tears prickle in his eyes as he was deeply moved. Bilbo wasn’t angry with him, he wasn’t going to leave him because he had treated him bad again... he cared only about them being together...

He didn't really know what to say, he wanted to ask about so many things but there were more urgent matters at hand. He coughed, 'So you’ve seen the others?'

'Yes,' the hobbit nodded, 'they are all one floor above you, at good health.' 

'Can you get to them safely?'

The hobbit nodded again.

'You’ve said that the elves let them keep their things? Nori too? He should be able to make a key to open these shackles, tell him there’s an elvish enchantment on it. And I guess he could teach you how to make copies of the keys for the doors...'

'He doesn’t have to, there is a place where they keep all the keys, I could take them without them noticing at any time...'

Thorin was staring back at him, he thought he knew his burglar well and still the hobbit’s courage always seemed to find a way how to surprise him.

'I’ll ask Nori for the key and Oin for one of his ointments and I’ll tell them you’re safe and all right. And then I’ll start thinking of how to get us out of here...' Bilbo was counting on his fingers as if not to forget how many things he must do... and the more Thorin looked at him, the more he wanted to feel him in his arms again, or at least to touch him, even if that meant the cold metal cutting deeper into his flesh.

He pulled on the chain again, reaching his other arm as far as possible, 'Whatever you do, please be careful and don’t get hurt... And come back to me as fast as you can.'

Tears sparkled in Bilbo’s eyes as he stood on his tiptoes and reached for Thorin as well. And for that one brief moment, the tips of their fingers brushed...  


	9. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9, in which Bilbo hates apples, is worried about Ori and walks through Erebor.....

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 9 - Distraction

Bilbo was standing by the wooden door behind which Bombur and Gloin were locked, running his fingers over the hilt of Sting absent-mindedly and looking at the door on the opposite side of the corridor, troubled. He glanced back at Bombur who was watching it with the same worried expression. The dwarf had told him some disturbing news earlier and Bilbo would have given anything to be able to go there for a moment and talk to Ori, comfort him... but the little dwarf was sleeping now, still too weak after being hurt by the spiders.

The hobbit sighed as he looked at Dori’s and Nori’s cell. This was not fair, this was not fair at all...

'The green one I said! Are you colour-blind?' Oin’s voice sounded from next door.

'Why, of course! And you know that very well!' Bofur’s defensive voice answered.

There was a grunt, 'Oh... well, it’s that small one over- Forget it, I’ll get it myself. Keep stirring this, be a good lad.'

Bilbo leaned back against the hard wood again. He came running there about half an hour ago and after passing Thorin’s instructions about the key to the shackles to Nori and describing the nature of the king’s injury to Oin, kept scuttling between their cells, impatient for them to finish their work so that he could get back to Thorin as quickly as possible. He kept ushering them but after being told off by both of them stopped.

An animated debate started between the others however, each of them in much better spirit than before and each one eager to supplement his opinion on their current situation. Kili said something Bilbo didn’t catch and they all started to roar with laughter. Well... almost all of them...

...

Clutching the key, ointment, candle, strips of cloth and tinderbox in his hands, Bilbo managed to carefully sneak back into the dungeon where Thorin was an hour later. With his magic ring on one finger he slipped into the tiny room where all the keys were kept and took one that belonged to the king’s cell. He paused for a moment, wondering why the elves needed to keep ten pieces of each key... all nicely labelled, too. Either the elves were particularly well organized or someone who was in charge of the keys must have been really bored once.

He didn’t ponder about it for too long though and ran to the hidden door, moving the barrel hiding the entrance back to its original position as well as he could, and then padded quietly to Thorin’s cell. Maybe the king had fallen asleep in the meantime... Bilbo smiled, if Thorin is asleep, he won’t wake him. He will kiss him gently, dress his wound and then curl next to him wearing his ring in case the elves came before he woke up the next day. Yes, that’s what he will do.

But the king wasn’t sleeping, he was standing at the exact same place as when he left him, glowering at the door as if it was the most evil thing he had ever seen. He sighed with relief when he saw Bilbo and relaxed his posture a little. The hobbit unlocked the door as quietly as possible and just to be safe locked them again once he was inside... and then he ran straight to the king’s arms.

Thorin hugged him with a crushing force. But Bilbo didn’t mind, he didn’t mind at all. All he felt was the dwarf‘s strong body pressed to his, dark hair brushing his face... Thorin’s arms wrapped around him in a way that made Bilbo feel that there couldn’t possibly be any other place in the world where he would feel safer.

He pressed his lips to Thorin’s then and was kissed back just as desperately and yet... very tenderly. And for the longest time they were just standing there, breathing peacefully in each other’s arms, taking comfort from being together after such a long time apart. Thorin kept running his fingers through Bilbo’s hair, kissing the top of his head every now and then and every time he did, Bilbo pressed closer to him, nuzzling his cheek on Thorin’s chest...

They sat by the waterfall then, the hobbit lighting the candle he had brought with him and unlocking the king’s shackle carefully with the key Nori conjured up right at the moment Oin finished mixing his ointment. The shackle gleamed with a faint blue light when Bilbo put the key inside it but once he turned it, the metal turned gray and cold, the spell upon it broken. He was chattering about everything that came to his mind while cleaning the cut on Thorin’s wrist because when he was talking he didn’t feel like fainting upon looking at all the blood covering the deep wound. And all the while Thorin was sitting opposite him, watching him silently.

Bilbo told him all about how the spiders had attacked them and that he managed to escape only because of his magic ring, and how he followed the creatures and tricked them, setting finally the others free. How they all thought that the king was captured by the elves but then got captured themselves and how he had been wandering through the elven halls, looking for them ever since, finding them only last night. And how they were all happy when he told them that he found their king as well. Thorin was listening quietly, his fists clenching from time to time and whenever Bilbo got to a point in his story where he was left alone or in danger, the king bent down and kissed him gently, causing the hobbit to turn red and lose his line of thought for a moment.

'I’m glad they are all here. And they are at good spirits, you say?' Thorin smiled a little.

Bilbo smiled as well, remembering the laughter before but then his hand hesitated where it was applying a somewhat violet ointment onto the dwarf’s hand. 'Dori’s not speaking to anyone...'

'Why not?' Thorin asked, watching Bilbo’s small fingers lingering on his skin.

'Well,' Bilbo said, moving his fingers again and biting the tip on his tongue while concentrating on his task (a thing the dwarven lord found very adorable indeed), 'because Ori ended up in a cell together with Dwalin...'

Thorin looked at him, confused, 'So?'

The hobbit laid the king’s hand in his lap, wrapping one clean cloth around it carefully, 'He and Nori didn’t know about them being together, they only found out in the forest right before they got caught and... Dori says he won’t allow it...'

Thorin was staring at him for a while but then he sighed as understanding hit him, 'So it was Ori in Dwalin’s room that morning. I see...'

'Dwalin didn’t tell you?' Bilbo raised his eyes to the king suddenly, an alarmed expression on his face, 'I thought you knew, otherwise I would have never-'

The king cupped his cheek, 'It’s all right, I knew he was with someone. And I’d say that all the others know as well by now, don’t they?'

Bilbo nodded, 'Dori was shouting before... that  Dwalin should keep his hands away from his little brother...'

Thorin raised his eyebrow, 'So some elves probably know as well. Dwalin knew well why to keep it a secret, Dori and Nori... they won’t understand all that easily...'

The hobbit was fidgeting with the last piece of cloth in his hands, 'Dori says it‘s wrong, even if he must have seen back in the forest how much they care for each other... Do you think he’s right?'

Thorin frowned, forcing the hobbit gently to look up at him. 'No, he’s not right. No one can possibly choose with whom they fall in love with.' He bent down and kissed Bilbo, brushing his fingers over his cheek, 'It’s a blessing to find someone who loves you back just as much as you love them and everyone should be able to see that and respect it. It’s none of their business with whom Ori decides to be. Though... I imagine he’s the one taking it the worst?'

'Bombur told me he was crying yesterday...' Bilbo nodded. Bombur told him everything... 'But he’s better now because Dwalin said he won’t give up on him no matter what his brothers say.'

Thorin smiled again, 'Good, that’s good.' But as he waited for Bilbo to finish with his wrist, that little smile disappeared again, almost as if the king realized something all of a sudden. 'Bilbo...' he whispered as the hobbit blew out their candle and looked at him questioningly, 'you said it was only me down here...'

'Yes.'

'I’ve... heard someone crying last night...'

The hobbit dropped his gaze to the floor, and was rather grateful that the darkness was concealing how much he was blushing, ashamed. He had been so desperate when he couldn’t find Thorin... He walked all through the elven halls, looked everywhere and in the end sat between the barrels in the cellar where he used to spend the nights and started to cry. He had never felt so alone as that night... But it seemed to him that he heard Thorin’s voice coming from somewhere, as if shouting, so he climbed from his hiding place and went looking for him again, finding the corridor where their companions were kept instead. And Dwalin told him to look for a hidden dungeon beneath because he knew they would keep Thorin in a special place. And there it was, mere few steps away from his hiding place. A door hidden behind empty barrels... He had been right next to Thorin this whole time...

'- and then I saw that torch at the end of the corridor and the door with bars and I knew you’d be there, so I ran as fast as I could... and when I saw you, I was so happy you were alive-'

The dwarf’s arms closed around him and Thorin pulled him to his chest, burying his head in the hobbit’s neck. He held him and Bilbo’s hands slipped around his waist as he pressed his cheek to the king’s hair.

'I am truly sorry for all the hardships you had to go through because of me, Bilbo Baggins... but I will take care of you now. As long as you want me, nothing will force me to leave your side ever again.'

*****

Bilbo was snoring slightly because he had caught a cold while sleeping in the chilly cellar and normally that sound would have woken him, but right now he knew nothing of it.

For the first time since they entered the Mirkwood forest, he felt completely safe and wasn’t afraid to fall into a deep sleep. His head was lying on Thorin’s thigh because the king insisted he took his bed for the night while sitting at one end himself, brushing gently away the hair that fell to the burglar’s face. His black furry coat was covering Bilbo from tip to toe and the hobbit felt magnificently indeed.

At some point during the night, or maybe the early morning, he felt Thorin putting the magic ring on one of his fingers and while shifting on the bed, laying one arm on his shoulder protectively. A moment after that, or maybe hours, soft tinkling voices reached to door, talking to Thorin in that slow elvish way and Bilbo felt that he should wake and hide but he was too tired and knew the elves couldn’t see him anyway. He heard Thorin answering something in his rough manner and smiled happily because the elves would never know how tender and loving the dwarven lord could be if he wanted to. But only he was allowed to see that... to feel that... He snuggled closer to Thorin’s thigh, laying one arm over it and fell into a deep undisturbed sleep again.

...

Bilbo’s stomach rumbled, but he didn’t want to wake up yet. He didn’t feel like eating apples again anytime soon and he was having the most wonderful dream.

'Hungry?' a voice somewhere above him chuckled.

The hobbit’s eyes flew open and were dazzled almost at once by the brilliant sunshine pouring in from the opening in the ceiling. The rays hit the water and their reflections shimmered all over the walls of the cell. He breathed out, it was the most wonderful thing he had seen...

He tilted his head up, looking at Thorin’s smiling face, 'It’s beautiful here!'

The king looked at him in an amused way, 'Are you suggesting we stay here?'

'No,' Bilbo shook his head, 'I don’t-' He stopped himself. He was just about to say that he didn’t like dark chambers carved in the cold rocks and full of darkness, but... he couldn’t tell that to Thorin, could he? He was a dwarf, he loved places like that, deep vast caverns far beneath the ground and full of gemstones and chill...

But perhaps Erebor was different. Perhaps there were places where there was light and warmth...

'What is Erebor like?' he asked, sitting up and gazing eagerly into Thorin’s eyes. There had to be something beautiful there, even Gandalf said it was a wondrous place once. There had to be something that he could learn to love, something that wasn’t dark and scary...

Thorin raised his eyebrows and Bilbo’s stomach rumbled again.

'I’ll tell you,' the king smiled softly, 'but please, eat something first. And don’t worry, there are no apples...'

'How did you know...' the hobbit looked at him wide-eyed.

Thorin kissed him lightly, 'You talked in your sleep just before you woke up. Mumbling 'no more apples' all the time.'

Bilbo could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he dropped his gaze to the bed. Apples were almost all he could get his hands on during these past days because the barrels in the cellar were full of them. Them and wine, that is. He even fell into one of them once, when he tried to reach the apples at the bottom. But he couldn’t tell Thorin that, he would think him clumsy and small. Men like Thorin wouldn’t even fit in a barrel like that...

The hobbit’s eyes widened. The barrels... He had heard the elves talking about sending the empty barrels down the river to the Lake town somewhere far away... If he knew in advance when they were going to do that, perhaps he could smuggle the dwarves into the barrels and the elves themselves would push them into the water and set them free... But that would be dangerous, so very dangerous...

He grabbed the strangely looking crispy bread the elves had brought for Thorin and came back to bed with it, sharing it with the king. There was plenty of it and he felt deep gratitude for that. At least the elves weren’t trying to starve their prisoners...

He settled next to Thorin and as the days passed, slowly, piece by piece the king rebuilt Erebor in Bilbo’s mind with his voice. Each morning Bilbo would sneak out of Thorin’s cell and pass messages from him to their companions or wander around the elven halls looking for a better way how to get out other than in barrels. He would listen to the elves and then bring back all the news he had heard to Thorin and when the early evening came, Bilbo would always curl next to the king and let him tell him all about the Lonely Mountain and his lost kingdom.

And soon, if he closed his eyes, the hobbit could see the magnificent impregnable Main gate with all its splendid statues and ornaments and know the story or legend behind each and every one of them. He could pass through the gate, walking on the polished black marble that shimmered when the sun shone on it. He could see the colossal halls inside, illuminated by thousand, hundreds of thousands torches and lanterns adorning everything like little pearls of dew that dawn brings. He could run his fingers over the precise lines of balustrades and doorframes - there were no delicate shapes like in the elven kingdoms, everything was strong and clear in here. He could run through the halls, never seeing the towering ceilings above him and never worrying that he will step on a stray sharp stone because the corridors of Erebor were smoothed to the last little detail. He could walk down to where the forges were and see the most wonderful armours and weapons being made, or he could wander through the hidden passages and touch all the gems that the earth itself had to offer, most of which he had never seen in his life. He could find his way back to Thorin’s chambers from any place in the Lonely Mountain...

He could feel a strange affection for the place even though he had never been there. He loved it, because Thorin loved it. And yet he feared it because, just like the king, he knew that such Erebor was long gone... a much darker halls now taking its place...

'The dragon will be down there by the treasure?' he asked once.

'Yes,' Thorin nodded, 'right next to the forges, and I’d say he will be much more bigger than when we last saw him...'

'How big is the treasure?' Bilbo asked, curious. By now he really wanted to see it with his own eyes, see all the gems and jewels he had heard so much about. He wanted it all to be Thorin’s again so that he could sit on his black throne and show all the envoys who’d come just how splendid and wealthy he was. He wanted him to have the respect of other kings he should have had all these years, had Smaug not come...

'Big, you could build three new towns with it and still there would be enough left...'

Bilbo blinked, amazed. He couldn’t very well imagine such a treasure. 'And what is the most precious thing there? Something huge? Like a diamond-studded armour?'

Thorin laughed, looking at Bilbo with amused eyes, 'No such thing, dear Bilbo. The most precious thing there... that is the Arkenstone, the heart of the mountain itself.' When he said the name, the king’s voice sounded somehow deeper and Bilbo looked at him intently.

'The heart of the mountain...?'

The dwarven lord’s eyes gazed at the falling water for a moment before he turned to the hobbit again, 'I have travelled far and seen many things, but nothing could ever match the Arkenstone. It used to shine upon my grandfather’s throne, but it’s lost somewhere in the caverns now...'

'I will find it for you,' Bilbo nodded determinedly, 'and then it will shine upon your throne.'

Thorin smiled, all shadows disappearing from his face and he leaned closer to him, kissing him gently. 'I know you will... you have found everything else I thought I‘ve lost a long time ago...'

*****

Bilbo was sitting cross-legged on Thorin’s bed with his back to the waterfall where the king was now washing himself. He was fidgeting with Thorin shirt, biting his lower lip. The thing he heard today while sneaking through the elven halls was... complicating things...

'Why are you so quiet?' Thorin’s calm voice asked and Bilbo winced.

He didn’t really want to tell him... What was wrong with staying right where they were after all? But he found it difficult, impossible even, to lie to Thorin. 'The elves have a feast tonight...' he muttered, 'they will be sending the barrels down the river tomorrow...'

Bilbo could see the dwarf’s shadow falling on him and passed him his shirt without looking around, sighing. Every since he found him here, it seemed like Thorin was determined not to touch him in any other way that wasn’t kissing or hugging and it bothered the hobbit immensely. Even more than his escape plan having certain obvious imperfections, such as the one that they all could drown... But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of anything better, there was simply no other way from the Wood elves' kingdom...

'Then we must not waste time,' Thorin muttered, sitting behind Bilbo and wrapping his arms around him.

'Thorin...' Bilbo moaned as the king’s lips pressed to his neck.

He had told Thorin about his idea with the barrels and unlike him, the king thought that it had a fairly good chance to succeed. Well, he could still hope that the others won’t be so optimistic and they’ll decide to stay here...

'Don’t worry, if you seal the barrels properly, nothing should happen,' Thorin’s hot breath brushed his ear and Bilbo dug his nails into one of his hands, a moan escaping his lips. The king did that, whenever Bilbo started to doubt his plan, he distracted him like this, and yet never went further... Bilbo knew he was right, they had thought it all through, nothing should happen...

A sound came from the corridor and the hobbit had his ring on his finger before he even knew it, Thorin pushing him behind his back.

'Why are we still down here? We should be upstairs celebrating with others,' a tinkling elvish voice said in the distance.

'We will, but I won’t drink the wine they have there, I have hidden something better here,' another, slightly elder voice replied, 'just for the two of us.' A muffled thud sounded, as if something small was being extracted from a pile of bigger things and the first voice giggled, making both the hobbit and the dwarf wonder how odd it sounds when an elf giggles.

They listened carefully as the footsteps of both elves disappeared and then Thorin pressed his lips to Bilbo’s, kissing him soothingly, whispering, 'Go to the others, tell them we’re leaving tonight.'  


	10. Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10, in which a perfectly good plan goes wrong...

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 10 - Drowning

The drops of wax were slowly falling on the dried out wood, forming an impenetrable layer over the lid beneath which Bofur was hidden in his barrel. Bilbo was watching them, making sure they fell right where they were supposed to fall. As long as he wasn’t thinking about Thorin, his hands were steady, never quivering. He kept counting the drops to stop his mind from wandering, he had to seal the barrels carefully, so that no water would get inside during their journey to the Lake Town...

'You’re done,' he called softly to Bofur when he finished, 'are you all right?'

'It’s awfully sticky here...' the dwarf’s muffled answer came, 'oh look! An apple!' Crunchy noise sounded from within the barrel and Bilbo smiled despite himself. He turned around then, seeing that only Thorin and Ori were left and hesitated for a while upon looking at Ori's upset expression before going to the king.

He clutched his candle tighter. Suddenly he couldn’t find courage to look into Thorin’s eyes. This was wrong... it was such a silly, stupid idea... anything could happen in the river. What if there are any rocks hidden beneath the water? The current was too fast, is anyone hits a sharp rock at that speed... He shivered.

'Bilbo,' Thorin’s quiet voice came to him as a whisper. He loved the king’s voice, he loved the way Thorin looked at him with his blue eyes that were no longer sad... he loved to feel his strength when he held him in his arms. He loved him...

The most terrible visions were running in front of his eyes, visions of everything bad that could happen to him, to all of them, on the way to the Lake Town... If something happens to Thorin... he won’t be able to go on living without him... 'We could still go back, the elves would never know...' he whispered, still looking at the stone floor. 'We could all stay here and be safe...' He couldn’t look into Thorin’s eyes because he knew the king trusted him with this plan, he didn’t have the doubts Bilbo and the others had... If he looked at him, he would start to cry...

'It will be all right, Bilbo,' Thorin said quietly. 'You know there’s no other way out and you’ve done all you can to ensure our safety, we will be fine. Everything will be all right...'

The hobbit shook his head. Nothing will be all right! Everything could go wrong! Doesn’t he see how many things could go-

Thorin stood up in his barrel and pulled Bilbo to his chest, embracing him so tightly that Bilbo could hardly breathe. But he didn’t need to breathe, he needed his Thorin to stay with him, safe and alive. Bilbo dropped his candle and grasped the king’s shirt so firmly that his knuckles turned white, burying his head in the soft fur on his cloak. And Thorin held him, finally cupping his cheeks and kissing his burglar. And Bilbo pressed closer to him, kissing him back desperately, willing to get lost in that kiss, forget about everything else... The dwarf brushed his tongue over Bilbo’s lower lip in a way that made the hobbit blush and gasp for breath.

'When we next see each other, we’ll be close to my kingdom and then I’ll...' Thorin hesitated, looking into the hobbit’s curious eyes. 'Then I’ll do it right. But we must hurry now, the elves could come back at any time.'

Bilbo nodded. He was right, they should hurry. He could ponder about what it was that Thorin wanted to do right later.

He reached for the lid to Thorin’s barrel and relit his candle, but as he looked back at the king, crouching in the small space, he felt a stinging pain in his heart. He would give anything to be able to crawl into that barrel with him. If it came to it, he would much rather drown with Thorin than be safe alone... He leaned down and pressed his lips to Thorin’s one last time before withdrawing and placing the lid in its place quickly, so that the king wouldn’t see the tears that started to roll over his cheeks... 

Why was the fate so cruel to them? It seemed like it took any chance it got to separate them... 

Bilbo ran his sleeve over his eyes as he counted the wax drops again, making sure two times he had done it right. He ran his fingers over the wood when he finished, wishing it was the dwarf’s warm skin and then turned to the last barrel in which little Ori sat.

They looked at each other without words for a moment, both knowing what was on the other’s mind. This was way too risky... if something went wrong, they would not lose a companion, they would lose love...

'Have you...' Ori’s voice quivered, 'have you sealed Dwalin’s barrel properly?'

The hobbit nodded.

'And... Dori’s and Nori’s?'

Bilbo nodded again and as he watched the little dwarf wiping his gentle eyes with his mitts, he could feel tears prickling in his own eyes again. Poor little Ori... this was not fair. He was the kindest being Bilbo had ever met and he was so happy for him when Ori found out his Dwalin loved him back, and now... How could his brothers be so cruel to him? Couldn’t they see how much they were hurting him? Ori loved them, he worried about them... he worried about Dwalin, he was scared... that was way too much hurt and fear for such a gentle heart...

Bilbo reached for him and hugged him. The little dwarf’s shaking hands slipped around him and the hobbit held him till he stopped trembling so much. 'It will be all right, you’ll see. You will be with your Dwalin in no time.' He smiled at Ori, sounding more courageous than he actually felt...

When he finished with Ori’s lid, he slipped on his magic ring and sat on the ground by Thorin’s barrel. Now they’ll have to wait for the elves...

*****

'That’s nine,' Thorin said as he laid Nori on the cold ground by the Lake Town. 'He’s fine, he’s just unconscious, keep on looking...' Oin crawled to him on all four, as pale as all of them and started to check on Nori.

Dwalin returned into the water with incredible speed, opening each and every barrel that got into his hands and Bilbo followed him, his teeth chattering, a panic taking over him. They managed to get to the Lake Town all right, but where were Ori and Dori?

Once the elves got the barrels to the Lake Town, it took ages till they decided to go to the town for a drink and Bilbo couldn’t start looking for his companions till they left. Straight after that he scrambled into the water and got a terrible fright when he realized that it was a cloudy evening and he could not see the marks he made on the barrels. But even if there was light, some of the barrels turned over during their wild ride down the river and the marks could now be at the bottom... How was he supposed to find his friends before it was too late?

Deciding he will just have to open all of them, he set to work, the water freezing him to the bone. He managed to find Thorin fairly early and overjoyed with finding him alive, worked with new energy. Thorin sat on the shore for a while, pale and weak, but joined Bilbo soon and with his help, the task went significantly faster. They found Bombur, Balin, Fili and Kili and together dragged them to the shore. And Gloin, Dwalin, Bifur, Oin and Bofur after that. They all fell to the solid ground and didn’t move, except for the warrior.

Dwalin stood up, his legs barely holding him and looked around, 'Where’s Ori?'

His gaze fell on Bilbo and Thorin, frozen and exhausted on their way to the water again, and then on the heap of barrels still unopened. He breathed out hard and staggered to the water as well. Thorin found Nori and Dwalin Dori then, both unconscious, and carried them to the shore as well.

And Bilbo kept wondering between the barrels, hopeless. There were too many of them! He promised Ori that everything will be all right, he promised him that he will see his Dwalin again soon... He promised... The deepest despair gave Bilbo strength again, he gave a promise and he was going to see that promise through! He kept passing through the barrel rows, looking around, something telling him to go further...

And then he saw it. A barrel almost all submerged under the water and there, on the lid, was his mark...

'Thorin!' he yelled and run to the barrel as quickly as the water allowed him, trying to pull it up a little with his frozen fingers. And then the king was there, lifting it with strength much bigger, pulling it to the shallow water to open it. As he moved it, a big crack could be seen by the bottom and Bilbo’s heart nearly stopped. There was a hole in the barrel... Where could it only break? In the river... there were rocks in the river... but that was hours ago...

Thorin pulled the lid away and picked Ori’s lifeless body, hurrying with him to the shore. Bilbo walked slowly after him, feeling numb... Ori... their little Ori...

He watched as Thorin laid him on the ground, he watched as Oin and Fili who were the only ones awake gazed at him in horror, he watched as Dwalin slowly came out of the water and fell to his knees beside Ori...

Bilbo reached them, seeing nothing but the little dwarf’s pale face, his wet brown hair sticking to his cheeks...

'He’s not breathing...' Oin’s voice sounded from somewhere far away. He saw Thorin laying his hand on Dwalin’s shoulder, he saw the warrior’s face, deathly pale and convulsed with pain so deep that they all could feel it. He looked like he wanted to die as well, like if the Death herself came to him at that moment, he would gladly go with her rather than live in a world that didn’t have Ori in it...

Bilbo looked back at Ori. This couldn’t be truth, this couldn’t... His gaze fell to the little dwarf’s hands and he realized one of his mittens was missing. He always had them, he always wore his beloved mitts... Something in Bilbo broke and he started sobbing, unable to stop himself. Huge tears were falling down his cheeks as he wept. He had to find it, they couldn’t let their Ori be without his mitts, he would miss them wherever he went...

Bilbo fell to his knees as well and saw that Dwalin looked at him, for the first time looking away from his Ori. And something in his expression changed as well, his eyes darkened and he pushed away Thorin’s hand. He crawled closer to Ori and placing his big hands over the dwarf’s heart started pressing his little chest, again and again. Almost as if he thought that if Ori’s heart couldn’t beat by itself, then he would make it beat instead.

There were tears running down his cheeks as well as he quietly repeated 'I said I will never leave you...' over and over...

And it seemed to Bilbo that perhaps he had lost his mind from all the pain and sorrow... Nobody dared come to him, nobody dared stop him. They were all only looking at him, weeping silently...

And then suddenly there came a gurgling sound from Ori and the boy gasped, water appearing in his mouth.

'Turn him to side! Quickly!' Oin called and Dwalin listened without thinking, still looking at Ori with a mixture of hope and shock.

The little dwarf coughed and choked, water running from his mouth until it finally stopped and he fell to his back again, opening his eyes a little. Dwalin cupped his cheek, laughing with the biggest relief. Ori looked at him, the tiniest smile appearing for a moment on his pale lips and then his eyes closed again.

Oin pressed his head on the boy’s chest, listening. 'It’s fine, he’s breathing now, he’s going to be fine,' he hastened to assure the warrior who looked at him with concerned eyes. 'Oh, heavens!' Oin flopped himself on the ground with relief.

'Some doctor you are! Giving us such a fright!' Fili laughed, nudging Oin playfully.

'Oh, I’ve never seen anything like this. By my beard, Dwalin, how did you ever think of that?'

But the warrior didn’t reply, he picked Ori from the ground and pressed him to himself, wrapping him in his somewhat dry cloak to keep him warm.

'Well, we can’t stay here,' Thorin said, looking around, 'we need to get them all someplace warm and dry. Bilbo, can you walk?'

The hobbit tore his eyes away from the little dwarf and looked at the king, nodding.

'Good, come with me to the town. We must find some shelter.'

*****

There was a huge and loud cheering as Thorin announced who he was to the townsfolk and even bigger when he told them that he and his companions were on a quest to reclaim Erebor.

Bilbo was standing by his side, immensely proud of his king and the way he talked. And immensely dizzy as the air in the house where they all gathered was stuffy and too warm. His fingers and toes were tingling now that he got warmer, because they became numb with cold back in the water. He could feel droplets of sweat forming on his forehead and unbuttoned his shirt a little. Could it be that he caught a cold in the lake?

He heard someone saying that the dwarves could take the house by the main square which was big enough for all of them and hidden from the western winds by other houses. A party was send out to help the sick dwarves get from the shore to their new temporary home and another to gather enough food for them.

They all walked through the wooden streets then and Bilbo would have gladly taken a look at everything but it was all he could do to follow the others without collapsing. He felt exhausted, and as he padded slowly in the crowd, his vision was getting more and more blurry... The whole town around him was suddenly warmer, hot, burning...

He walked into the house with the others feeling as worn out as never before, while Thorin stayed outside to thank the people of the town. Seven of his companions were helped to their rooms because they were too weak to climb the stairs by themselves but slowly the main hall became empty...

Bilbo looked around, not sure where to go. Should he wait for Thorin or find a room for them? Were they allowed to share a room now? He looked at the stairs. They looked far too steep and he was so tired, so very tired... He could curl and fall asleep right there on the floor.

His head spun and as he looked towards the main door, he could feel his knees giving up beneath him. Thorin appeared at the door just then, looking equally tired and as he closed it, his gaze fell on Bilbo immediately, a worry flashing over his face.

And just as Bilbo began to fall, he could see the king rushing to him. Darkness covered him and the hobbit prepared to hit the ground but he didn’t. He hit something soft and warm, something that lifted him up and then he knew no more...  


	11. Devoted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11, in which everyone tries to escape Oin, and Dwalin knows things Bilbo doesn't..... :)

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 11 - Devoted

Wherever he was, it was too hot in there... Bilbo’s skin was on fire, its flames licking his lips and throat, leaving them sore and dry, making the breathing painful. He coughed but that didn’t help one bit, he needed water... Someone’s warm hand touched his forehead and then his cheeks. Bilbo groaned, trying to get away from those hands. They were rough and too hot, they were not Thorin’s, they shouldn't be touching him like that...

'Nasty cold he got...' a voice said, too loud, 'well, we can’t leave him alone when he’s like that...'

Bilbo groaned again, pulling the blanket from his body. It was so hot there, why wouldn't anyone open the window on such a warm night? The burning rough hands were back, covering him with the blanket again. Why...?

'Bombur’s a little better, I can ask the lad to stay here with him...'

Bilbo wanted that loud voice to stop talking, he wanted to push away those hands but his own arms were too heavy, he couldn’t move them at all...

'I’ll stay here,' a different voice sounded, calm and serene, covering the hobbit like a summer rain, soothing away the fire. Thorin’s voice. Bilbo breathed out with relief, the king was there with him, he will take away those rough hands, he will take care of him...

'You? But, Thorin...'

'It’s all right, Oin, just tell me what to do.'

There was a pause and then the loud voice grunted. 'Keep him warm, no matter how hard he protests and make him drink this every time he’s even a little bit awake. If all goes well he will sweat a lot, so change his shirt whenever it’s wet...' another pause, 'Thorin... It’s not fitting for a king, I’m sure Bombur wouldn’t mind-'

A long silence.

'Very well then, I’m going to check on Nori and I’ll send someone with more shirts.'

The warm hands withdrew from him, heavy footsteps sounded and the door opened for a moment, letting in a nice whiff of cold air. How come it was so warm in the room? A fire crackled then, somewhere behind the hobbit... Oh... He tried to untangle from his blanket again, but then the mattress dropped a little beneath him and another hand touched Bilbo’s cheek. Cold and tender and he leaned to that touch. With all the strength he could muster, he forced his eyes open, piercing blue ones meeting his gaze. A little relief flashed over the king’s face as he bent closer to him.

'How are you?' he whispered, his voice was deep and quiet, the most wonderful voice in the whole wide world.

'Hot,' Bilbo rasped and his own voice sounded strange.

'I know,' Thorin frowned a little, brushing gently the wet hair from Bilbo’s forehead. 'But you’ve got to be, so that you could get better... Are you thirsty?'

The hobbit nodded and the king reached for a cup standing on the table by Bilbo’s bed, supporting his shoulders and pressing the cup to Bilbo’s lips. Knowing it was some Oin’s recipe, the hobbit prepared for something sour but it was sweet and good. He gulped down the whole cup, the pain in his throat easing a little.

Thorin laid him back on bed and Bilbo felt suddenly bad that the king was forced to take care of him like he was a little child. He knew there were more important things that Thorin should be doing and had he enough strength he would worry about keeping him this way... but he had no strength at all and he didn’t want his Thorin to leave him alone in a strange room...

The dwarf smiled at him, kissing him lightly, 'Sleep, I’ll be here...'

And Bilbo slept. Deeply and yet lightly, without dreams and yet with strange visions that looked so real... He woke few times and saw Thorin sitting by his bed, carving something with his knife under the lamp light. And he fell asleep again, visions of elves, goblins, eagles and bears hunting him till he woke again, confused as to where he was. He was sitting, pressed to the king’s chest, Thorin pulling his shirt off him. The heat was gone, the chills taking its place. He was shivering, cuddling himself closer to the king.

Thorin’s arm slipped around him, warm and strong and a deep sadness filled Bilbo. He suddenly remembered the nights in Beorn’s house, the way they were together... He raised his hands a little to the king’s back, feeling the muscles beneath his fingers. He pressed his forehead to Thorin’s heart, the soft echo of his heartbeat resonating through him, 'You don’t touch me anymore...'

He could feel the king tense but then sleep took him again.

He knew that he was trembling later that night and couldn’t stop, so Thorin climbed in the bed with him, embracing him, making him warm. He knew Thorin forced him to drink some more of Oin’s medicine by the morning, Bilbo running his fingers over the dark circles beneath his eyes. He must have been so tired and yet he was still taking care of him...

And when he woke next, the sun was pouring in through the window and it must have been before lunchtime. Thorin was curled next to him, asleep and breathing softly.

Bilbo stretched out a little. He should have been hungry but wasn’t, he even felt better than yesterday. Not well enough, but definitely better. He reached out for the cup, looking inside at the greenish liquid. It smelled funny but he took a sip anyway, some powerful medicine it was...

He lay down again and noticed that Thorin had woken, the king's eyes looking at him intently. There was something in his expression that made Bilbo wonder if perhaps he had said something during the night, something that had offended the king and that he did not remember... What could he have said? Was it something bad? Surely Thorin must understand that he had fever and was-

The king kissed him then. Not with one of his tender kisses, with a kiss so passionate that it left Bilbo breathless. The hobbit blinked, surprised, he could feel his cheeks turning red; even more red than they have ever been. He dropped his gaze to where Thorin’s arm was laid over his stomach, the king’s fingers brushing his side. What on earth did he say? Or do...?

*****

Bilbo smiled, putting the thread and needle aside, looking at his waistcoat with a satisfied expression. He ran his fingers lightly over his brand new nacre buttons; they were wonderful, made by Thorin himself...

'They are really pretty, lad,' Dwalin said and the hobbit raised his eyes to him.

He took advantage of the fact that Thorin had to go and meet the Master of Lake-town because of some maps and sneaked out of his room to see the others. The king insisted on him staying in bed for two whole days and Bilbo was anxious to find out how Ori was. Even though Thorin assured him that the boy was getting better... Bilbo knew he was lying for his sake. It was quite hard for him to lie to the hobbit now, too...

He knew that Ori hasn’t woken up yet but he wanted to see him, help him in some way... but at the same time he was afraid of Dwalin. Thorin told him that the warrior never left Ori’s side and Bilbo was worried that if he went there, Dwalin might blame him for the little dwarf’s condition... and he would have every right to do so, he thought miserably. It was only his fault that Ori got hurt...

He thought about it just as the door past which he was walking opened slowly and quietly and Dwalin appeared. He stopped when he saw Bilbo and the hobbit winced. The warrior’s face was pale as if he hadn’t slept or eaten for days, his eyes glazed.

'I though I heard Oin...' he muttered, looking up and down the corridor.

'Shall I go for him?' Bilbo asked quickly, worried that perhaps Ori got worse, 'I’ll bring him right now!'

'No,' Dwalin said, chuckling a little despite himself, 'I just wanted to tell him to go away. He’s been bothering me about getting some sleep the whole morning...' He sighed a little and then looked at Bilbo again, 'You came to see Ori?'

The hobbit nodded, 'If... if you wouldn’t mind...'

Dwalin looked at him, tired, 'Why would I mind? I know you’re good friends...'

And Bilbo didn’t know why, perhaps it was because of his illness, or the fatigue, or the unexpected kindness in the warrior’s voice, but suddenly there were big tears running down his cheeks. 'I’m so sorry,' he hiccupped, 'I’m so very sorry that Ori got hurt, that yo-you all got hurt because of my s-stupid plan-'

Dwalin’s fingers brushed the tears away gently, 'Don’t cry, if he knew you were crying, he’d be sad too... You got us out of there alive, that’s what matters. It wasn’t your fault that his damn barrel got broken... '

Bilbo looked up at him, the eyes that usually sparkled with life were now so very worn out...

'I can take care of him,' he said, wiping his cheeks with a sleeve, 'you get some rest.'

'No, that’s... I’ve got to stay awake in case he wakes...'

The warrior clenched his fists for a moment but then smiled a little at Bilbo and let him in the room, closing the door behind them. And as the hobbit approached the bed, he sat down in one of the armchairs.

Bilbo looked at Ori’s sleeping face. He took his small hand between his own and a relief ran through him. The little dwarf was warm, his cheeks a little pink, he even stirred in his sleep. That was good. He turned to Dwalin with a wide smile and realized that the warrior had fallen asleep, breathing peacefully. Bilbo looked around; Ori would never forgive him if he left his Dwalin just like that... He spotted a blanket on the other armchair and wrapped it around the warrior as well as he could.

Than he sat down on Ori’s bed, holding his hand again, telling him that he needed to wake up soon because his Dwalin was worried, that they all were worried, that when he gets well they will go and explore the Lake Town together because Bilbo had seen nothing of it yet as well. He was talking and talking while both dwarves slept silently, the sun slowly moving to the west.

It was almost evening when Bilbo remembered the buttons in his pocket that he got from Thorin yesterday and started to stitch them in places of those he lost at the Misty Mountains while running away from the goblins.

When he finished, Dwalin woke. Bilbo looked at him and saw that the warrior was studying his face intently, his eyes flying to the buttons.

'They are really pretty, lad.'

'I got them from Thorin,' he mumbled happily, dropping his gaze back to them. For some reason he couldn’t look into the warrior’s eyes for a long time.

The older dwarf was quiet for some time and then he suddenly asked, 'Did he give you something else as well?'

Bilbo looked at him again, surprised, his hand slipping to his breast pocket where he kept the pipe he got from the king the day before. Thorin carved it himself during the night when he was ill and there were tiny miniatures of his emblem all around the mouthpiece.

'I see,' Dwalin said, following his movement with his eyes. His voice was sad all of a sudden as he turned to look at Ori. He seemed lost in thoughts for a moment before looking back at the hobbit with a small smile. 'Thorin and his sense for traditions,' the warrior chuckled. 'So you’re going to get the-' he hesitated upon seeing the hobbit’s confused expression, 'third gift tonight.'

'A third gift?' Bilbo repeated and looked at the warrior, the curiosity getting the better of him. What tradition was he talking about? Was he about to get even more gifts? But... he didn’t have anything to give Thorin in return... Oh, he will be so embarrassed if he gets any more gifts...

Dwalin smiled at him from beneath his blanket, watching his concerned face, 'Don’t fret, you’ll know soon enough.'

A quiet knock on the door came and it opened carefully when Dwalin grunted. Thorin entered, scanning the room quickly, frowning when he saw Bilbo on the bed next to Ori, 'Should have known you won’t listen...'  

Dwalin stretched a little, 'Would you mind if your hobbit stayed here tonight, Thorin? He’s a rather nice and quiet fellow compared to the dwarves and I could go with some rest. Unless of course,' the warrior winked at the king, 'you have some special plans for this night.'

Thorin glared at him with all his force and Bilbo was surprised that Dwalin didn’t wince or look away first, but then they were good friends. He must have known that the king wasn’t really angry because just then a small smile appeared on Thorin’s lips as well, 'It’s nice to see you smiling again... But you were right, I have an important business to discuss with my burglar tonight.'

'By all means,' Dwalin nodded seriously but just as Bilbo was passing him, completely confused this time, the warrior chuckled again.

*****

Bilbo was standing by his window, a little sachet in his palm. His hand was trembling and he wasn’t quite sure why... Thorin’s eyes were just as dark blue as the sky in the west where the sun had just set, watching him intently.

Whatever was inside the sachet, it held a deep meaning, Bilbo knew. Just as he knew that it was made by Thorin again... Dwalin said it was something traditionally given... Bilbo took a shaky breath, not for the first time wishing that he knew more about the dwarven traditions and customs... He didn’t even know what tradition he just became a part of... What if he doesn’t respond correctly? Perhaps Thorin thinks he knows what’s going on and now he will make a fool of himself... He dropped his head, oh dear...

'Dwalin said that... you giving me three gifts is a tradition,' he whispered, swallowing.

Thorin nodded, 'He’s right, but there aren’t many who do it the old way these days...'

'Do what the old way?' Bilbo chanced a look at him.

'Courting,' Thorin answered as if it was the most natural and obvious answer.

The hobbit winced, staring at the king wide-eyed.

'According to the tradition I should have first asked your family for permission, but... I don’t know anyone from your family. Though, Gandalf brought you to our company and in his own way he gave us his blessing a long time ago. He realized how we felt about each other even before we did... Then three gifts follow. And after that I shall introduce you to my family as my mate. From that moment we are bonded and we’ll be allowed to eat and sleep by each other’s side,' Thorin’s cheeks flushed a little and he looked away from Bilbo, coughing. 'Well, like I said, not many of us follow these steps precisely nowadays...'

Bilbo started determinedly at the little sachet. That was right, and they were no exception, indeed... They have done far more than sleep by each other’s side back in Beorn’s house... Something dawned on the hobbit then.

'That’s why you wouldn’t be with me back in the prison in Mirkwood?' he dared a look at the king.

Thorin turned his gaze to him as well. 'I wanted to do it the right way, the traditional way, so that you would know how much I care and that I am serious about us. The way I treated you at Beorn’s house... that was shameful. Such things are to be saved for bonded couples, I... I don’t know what is it about you that makes me desire you so much but... I promise I will touch you like that again only when you’re rightfully mine and I am yours.'

Bilbo was running his fingers over his buttons nervously. If they do this, if they bond, then he will be allowed to stay by Thorin’s side forever...

He looked at the king happily, 'But if... if you give me three gifts, what do I give you back?'

Thorin smiled at him. 'Your answer... This gift,' he pointed to the sachet, 'goes with a promise. If you accept it, I will say my promise to you and you must say yours...'

Bilbo looked at the sachet and his trembling fingers opened it clumsily. Out of it he took a small circular object, a ring. Dark blue, almost black and cool to touch. The hobbit was staring at it, aware that his mouth was open, his breath taken away with any words he might have wanted to say...

The king took a hold of Bilbo’s hand and moved it slowly to the window. The clouds outside dispersed for a moment, revealing the pale moon and as its light fell on the dark ring in Bilbo’s palm, the ring shimmered with blue light, seven letters Bilbo didn’t know appearing on it’s smooth surface almost as if carved in.

Bilbo breathed out with surprise, the beauty of it enchanting him at once...

'If you accept this ring,' Thorin’s deep voice spoke, 'I promise that I will love you till the end of my days, I promise that my love for you will never quiver, never lessen, I promise I will always be by your side and protect you with my life, I promise I will never betray or hurt you, that I will never let you stand alone. Will you promise me the same?'

The hobbit looked at him, the butterflies in his stomach rising with such a force as never before. There was no force in the world mightier or louder than the flutter of their wings, there was no love stronger than the one he felt for the dwarven lord... His love could never quiver or lessen either, he could never betray or leave... There were no thoughts about the Shire or his Bag End on his mind, there was only Thorin...

'I do, I promise,' he whispered, closing his fingers around the ring, clutching it tightly, worried that at any moment he might wake and realize that it was all just a dream. But he felt it still, the coldness of the unknown metal.

Thorin smiled at him and kissed him, whispering 'Then we are bonded for life, you and I...' against his lips...   


	12. Delight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12, in which Oin gives away rather handy gifts, Thorin tells Fili and Kili (and everyone else) a secret and Bilbo rushes from the bathhouse..... :)

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 12 - Delight

Thorin held a firm grip around Dwalin’s arms and chest, the warrior trying to shake him off. But the king knew that he won’t succeed, this was the only grip that could keep someone as big as his friend fairly immobile and the fact that Dwalin didn’t want to hurt him was helping significantly.

No, he didn’t want to harm him, all his rage was directed at Dori in front of him. The gray-haired dwarf, held firmly by Bofur, was red with anger, his usually neatly braided hair flying around him in one tangled mess as he tried to get closer to Dwalin.

'Enough!' Thorin shouted and he could feel the warrior stopping to struggle against him and Dori’s gray eyes looked at him, blinking. He seemed stunned, almost as if only realizing that there were others in the corridor as well, watching them.

The king knew something like this was bound to happen ever since Dori woke up two days ago. He knew that as soon as he got better he would rush to Ori and find Dwalin there. He knew there would be a fight...

He didn’t quite expect Dori’s choice of vocabulary though, every single word of his meant to hurt Dwalin but inadvertently hurting someone else as well... Thorin glanced at Bilbo who was standing beside him, glaring at Dori with the fiercest expression he had ever seen on him, his chest heaving with anger.

Once he was sure that Dwalin calmed down a little, he let go of him but gave no sign to Bofur to let go of Dori too. When it came to protecting Ori, even if for a completely wrong reason, Dori was the most stubborn dwarf Thorin knew...

'Go to my room, all of you and wait for me there, I want to talk to you. Bombur, go and get Nori,' he said and as he saw Dwalin looking anxiously at the door to Ori’s room, he added, 'Bilbo will keep an eye on him, don't worry.'

There was a lot of grunting from Dori as he, still in Bofur’s grip, followed the warrior down the corridor and a good deal of murmuring from the others as they were retreating that way as well, all confused.

'Was that what I think-' Kili was asking, limping slightly, one hand around Fili’s neck as the other supported him.

'Yeah,' his brother nodded.

'So Dwalin and-'

'Yeah,' Fili nodded again.

They disappeared behind the corner and Kili’s excited voice sounded, 'Awesome!'

Thorin ran his hands over his face, his gaze falling on the hobbit again. Bilbo’s eyes were glued to Ori’s door and the king wondered whether he got so upset, when Dori was shouting that he won’t ever let his little brother be with a man, only because it was unfair to Ori or because he himself was with a man...

He had spent his days in the little dwarf’s room lately but Thorin didn’t mind. He had to be in the town most of the time anyway. Making deals with merchants who had agreed to give them provisions for their journey to Erebor in return for some generous sums when the dwarves had their treasure back; or talking with the town’s librarian, trying to find out as much as possible about what happened during those years when no dwarf lived in the Lonely Mountain.

And if Bilbo was there, he knew that Dwalin would at least get some rest and maybe even eat something. And when the evening came, Bilbo would always sneak into his room and spend the night there, curling by his side and falling asleep in an instant...

Thorin looked at the tiny silver chain around the hobbit’s neck. At the end of it, hidden beneath his shirt, was the blue ring he had given him. The king would very much like to see it on the hobbit’s finger but that won’t happen till he introduced him to his family as his intended one. And he couldn’t do that yet...

They agreed that until their quest was finished, they would only tell Fili and Kili about them since they were Thorin’s family. And though Bilbo never said why, Thorin thought that he only came with such an idea because he was worried what the others might think... He worried that they might not accept them because not only was he a man, he was also a hobbit, he was not one of them... And he worried that they might leave Thorin’s company because of that... And given that he saw how badly Dori and Nori reacted to Ori’s being with Dwalin, the king could hardly blame him...

They wanted to tell his nephews today because Kili had been injured and ill as well but now...

The hobbit was looking at him, running his fingers over the handle absent-mindedly, 'You want to tell them about us, so that Dori would allow Ori to be with Dwalin?'

The king nodded, 'If I have to'.

'Do you think it will help?'

'Yes,' Thorin approached him, brushing a strand of hair from his cheek.

Bilbo’s hand moved to the ring, clutching it over the light fabric for a moment, before looking at the king determinedly, 'Do it, then.'

*****

Thorin turned to look at Dori and Nori, his hands crossed over his chest. Seven pairs of eyes followed his example, looking at both dwarves expectantly as well and the king was painfully aware of Fili’s and Kili’s eyes still on him. He couldn’t look back at them though, they were the only ones in the room whose reaction he cared about and he wanted to hear or see it only when the matter at hand was solved.

Nori was sitting with his head bent down a little, toying with a loose thread on his shirt. 'Is it really true?' he asked quietly no one in particular, 'That Dwalin saved Ori’s life...'

'Yes,' Oin said, 'Right here at the harbor, I’ve seen it. And so have Fili and Mr. Baggins.'

'I see,' Nori nodded a little, turning his head to the warrior, 'Thank you.' Dwalin was staring back at him but then nodded as well.

Dori winced a little at the sudden loss of an ally.

Thorin was rather glad that the burglar was not in the room. If he got upset only by what the gray-haired dwarf said in the corridor, then what was said later in the room could have forced him to loose his temper. Thorin didn’t mind though. He knew that Dori had a point when he yelled about warriors using innocent boys like Ori only for fun and then abandoning them, broken-hearted. That had happened before. He hesitated but then had to agree when Dori shouted that there was no honour in seducing a naive lad like Ori behind his family's back. He lost it however when Dori said that two men shouldn't be together, that it wasn't right and natural, that they could never be happy and as soon as Erebor is claimed, he will find Ori a suitable bride and as heaven is above him, force him to marry her.

That’s when the king turned to him sharply, trying hard to control his anger.

'How then, would you react if I told you that I have bonded with our burglar?' he asked through gritted teeth and saw Dwalin looking at him with relief.

Dori looked taken aback for a moment but then laughed, 'But that’s absurd!'

'And yet it’s true.'

A dead silence fell over the room as they all stared at their king.

'You... and t-the halfling...' Dori stuttered.

'Me and the halfling. So think again about what you’re saying here. You think you’re doing what’s best for Ori but the only thing you’re doing is taking him away from the man he loves. From the man who saved his life, from the man who loves him so much that he’s fighting for him. Do you honestly think that he would do that if Ori was just a mere amusement for him?'

So there they all were when the door flew open and Bilbo appeared, his cheeks flushed, a wide smile on his lips, 'Ori’s awake!'

Both Dwalin and Dori jumped to their feet and both hesitated at the same time, staring at each other. And then the gray-haired dwarf clenched his fists, 'Well, go to him then, what are you waiting for?'

*****

'This shouldn’t feel so awkward given my profession, but...' Oin hesitated, lighting his pipe and breathing in before turning to the king again. They were standing alone on the balcony on the top floor, the whole Lake town spreading beneath them, illuminated by the pale light of moon and warm glow of the torches.

'But?' Thorin repeated, having no idea where the older dwarf was heading to.

'But I must admit, I didn’t have this kind of conversation for... well, that would be almost eighty years,' Oin was staring at the sky, his brow furrowed, as if counting. 'Yes, eighty-two, to be precise.'

An uneasy feeling took hold of Thorin. He couldn’t seriously mean to talk to him about...

'And to think I have to do it twice during one day...' the old dwarf continued, grunting.

'Twice?' the king asked, little hope that he might be wrong in his assumptions still in him.

'Yes, I was talking to Dwalin a moment ago.'

No, definitely a correct assumption. Thorin could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as he sighed. Oin had to be the only living dwarf who could ever make him feel uncomfortable like this...

'Though, I’ve been informed that I really don’t need to give him any advice in this particular... area.'

'I see,' Thorin muttered, his voice rather hoarse so he coughed. 'Well, it would the same case here.'

Oin looked at him, taking the pipe from his mouth, surprise in his eyes. 'Oh... well... that’s a relief!' he chuckled but then turned serious again, 'but take this anyway, lad. I gave one to Dwalin too, just to be sure. One mustn’t forget that your hobbit is way smaller and more... delicate than a dwarf, so be... Ah, but you know what I mean! Well, this is a jolly evening after all! You have no idea how uncomfortable you and Dwalin made my noon, preparing speeches like this...'

Thorin could hear no more, because Oin left the balcony and started to descend the stairs, still muttering to himself.

But there were other more important things on his mind right now. He looked into his palm where a small glass vial lay, filled with clear liquid. He didn’t need to ask to know what that was... and for a moment he tried to remember whether he had ever felt more embarrassed in his life, before reaching the decision that in fact no, he hadn’t.

A movement down on the street caught his attention and he saw Bilbo leaving the bathhouse, trotting to their house happily and Thorin was suddenly immensely grateful that Oin managed to fashion a new ear trumpet and wasn’t yelling anymore.

*********

'What’s that?' Bilbo asked from beneath the towel he had on his head as the king entered the room, looking at the little vial he was stuffing in his pocket.

Thorin approached him, ruffling the towel over his hair, trying to dry it, 'Nothing. If you go out with your hair all wet, you’ll catch cold again.'

The hobbit giggled, standing in front of the dwarf obediently. 'I didn’t have time to dry it properly. When Balin said you were back from the town I hurried back here.'

Thorin bent down and kissed him lightly. 'Well, next time dry it properly, I’ll wait.'

The hobbit blushed, dropping his gaze to the floor. 'I hurried back because tonight is a special night...'

'How so?' the king asked, ruffling his hair again.

'Well...' Bilbo shifted his weight, 'you said that we will be properly bonded after you have my family’s permission, give me three gifts and introduce me to your family... and you told Fili and Kili about us today... so...' He swallowed, running his fingers over the dwarf’s belt nervously. 'So now we are properly bonded and you said that... you’ll... t-touch me like you did, once we are bonded...'

Thorin smiled a little. He had not forgotten that of course. He was in fact thinking about it ever since his nephews left his room as the last ones that morning, giggling. He thought about it so much that he had no idea what he promised to the Master of the town that day, nor what kind of ship did he bargained to get them to the far end of the lake... He will have to go back to the harbor tomorrow and have a look again...

But now he didn’t have to think about it anymore. Now he could do it... do all those things he had dreamed of doing with Bilbo ever since he held him in his arms back in the Mirkwood prison. They were a couple now and there was only one step that should naturally follow the act of bonding...

He kissed Bilbo then, letting all the passion he didn’t have to hold anymore pass into that kiss. He cherished the soft wetness of the hobbit’s inner lip, he loved the way his burglar trembled in his arms, quiet moans escaping his lips.

Bilbo slipped his hands around his waist, pulling his shirt up, small warm fingers caressing his back. Were it up to him, Thorin would have taken the hobbit right there in the middle of the room, but Oin was right, Bilbo wasn’t a dwarf, he mustn’t be too rough with him...

The king’s arms reached down, taking the hobbit’s dressing gown off in one motion and the burglar breathed out in surprise as he was now standing in front of the king stark naked... It took precisely one look at his smooth body and Thorin was stripping his own clothes quickly, picking the hobbit in his arms and carrying him to his bed. Their bed. That was how it was going to be from now on.

He laid him down, their lips never leaving each other’s. It has been so long since he kissed and touched him like this for the last time but Thorin could still remember what the hobbit’s skin felt like, what it tasted like... He loved that sweet taste of the skin on Bilbo’s neck and thighs, he loved the slightly salty taste of his hardness... He only had Bilbo like that once and yet he remembered everything. The little scar on his shoulder, the tiny imperfections on his left hip where he must have scratched himself badly once. He loved to ran his fingers over all of it, he loved the way Bilbo looked at him when he was lying beneath him, aroused...

He looked at him now, breaking the kiss and what he saw thrilled him right to his core. Bilbo was flushed, tiny layer of sweat already covering his body. He had his eyes closed, panting quickly while biting his lower lip, both hands alongside his head, one of them clutching the pillow. And precisely this position granted Thorin a perfect access to the hobbit’s chest... The king bent down again, brushing his tongue over one of Bilbo’s nipples.

'Thorin,' the hobbit sighed, his voice all weak with excitement.

The dwarf smiled, doing it again because he knew how much it affected his burglar. He pressed his lips to the soft skin beneath the nipple then, feeling the frantic beating of Bilbo’s heart through the silky skin. It felt like a little bird was imprisoned there, fluttering his wings furiously, crying for freedom.

Thorin hesitated then, his Bilbo was like that little bird, he was too fragile... Even though he had been with a man before, a small hobbit couldn’t compare to a dwarf...

He looked into his eyes and noticed that Bilbo was watching him, his honest eyes narrowed.

And then, without a word, the hobbit reached out one hand to him, the one that was clenched into a fist until then, and there on his palm was a tiny glass vial.

'When did you...' Thorin breathed out, looking around at his clothes on the floor, wondering whether it was really his vial or Bilbo just happened to have the same one.

'When you kissed me earlier,' the hobbit whispered with a smile.

And Thorin remembered the hobbit embracing him, putting his arms around his waist, caressing shortly his hips where the pockets were, before reaching to pull out his shirt...

'My burglar,' he laughed, kissing the giggling Bilbo lightly but when he next looked at him, the hobbit was watching him intently.

'You’ll have use it...'

Thorin’s own heart started to pound frantically then. It was beating fast all the time but there was something in the way Bilbo said the words, something in the way he looked at him, that made him nervous all of a sudden. He reached for the vial hesitantly and was disgusted with himself when he noticed how much his hand was trembling.

But he knew why... it’s been too long since the last time, it’s been too new with a hobbit... Maybe they shouldn’t do this at all. He was way too eager to make love to Bilbo and he was way too aroused to go slowly with him once they started... He hurt the hobbit enough already with his harsh words and actions, he didn’t want to see his blood too...

Bilbo was watching him and he may have guessed what Thorin was thinking about because he ran his hands to the king’s shoulders, tangling his fingers in his dark hair and pulling him gently down for another kiss.

'I’ll be fine,' he whispered against his lips. And forcing the king to sit, he climbed from beneath him so that he was kneeling between Thorin’s thighs now. 'Let me...' taking the vial from the king’s hand, he ran his fingers over the dwarf’s hardness while pressing lips to his.

Thorin kissed him back, moaning and having no idea where this was going but knowing that he would go anywhere...

Bilbo’s lips joined his hand on the king’s hardness then and Thorin breathed out with pleasure, grasping the mattress to steady himself. He could see the hobbit’s wet tongue stroking him gently, leaving him equally wet; he could see his fingers sliding below his hardness and a throaty groan made its way from the king's lips.

White haze spread over everything and he could feel and hear, more than see, Bilbo uncapping the vial and spreading the pure liquid over his whole length... The hobbit’s hand slipped into his, intertwining their fingers and Thorin could feel the liquid on his fingers too...

'I’ll be all right,' Bilbo’s lips were back on his, 'so whatever you do... don’t stop...' His hot breath brushed Thorin’s cheek and then the hobbit disappeared from him, lying back on the bed.

And the king was dazed, immense passion and desire filling him, fuelled even more by the hobbit’s words. He ran his hands over Bilbo’s legs, spreading them and laid between them. His hardness rubbed against Bilbo’s and the hobbit arched his back to get even closer to him. His eyes were closed again, his head tilted to the back, the most wonderful purring sound escaping his lips.

Thorin’s hand moved to Bilbo’s right knee, coaxing it even more to the side, running his moist fingers over the soft skin there all the way down to the hobbit’s backside smoothly. He pressed his lips to Bilbo’s again and the burglar’s arms wrapped around his neck, his fingers running slowly through the king’s hair.

The dwarf brushed his fingers over Bilbo’s entrance gently and he could feel him tensing for a moment, his leg on Thorin’s back twitching lightly.

Bilbo’s hot breath blew softly upon Thorin’s lips as he moaned, his hands dropping to the king’s shoulders.

'Thorin, please,' he rasped, 'hurry...'

The king smiled teasingly, raising a little and slipping his other hand to the hobbit’s hardness for a moment before propping himself with it again. It was all right, he still had some time to play with his burglar a little...

Bilbo’s eyes flew open with the unexpected touch but closed again as Thorin ran his fingers over his entrance again, caressing the hobbit continuously with a series of smooth strokes, applying always a little more pressure at the softest spot but never entering. He loved the way Bilbo was wriggling beneath him with anticipation, his cheeks flushed and sweaty, he enjoyed the sounds he was making immensely. They were the most arousing thing...

The hobbit kept uttering his name, sighing, hands clutching his shouldesr... He looked wonderful, gorgeous... and the king wanted these moments to last for as long as possible but he knew he couldn’t keep on doing it forever, eventually he would lose it too and he needed to prepare Bilbo first... He ran his fingers over him again, only this time he let one of them slide inside the hobbit slowly, gently.

Bilbo gasped at the sudden intrusion, tightening around him for one scary moment and arching his back as if to get away from Thorin but then the king’s lips kissed him again and slowly the hobbit calmed down, relaxing, distracted by the deep kiss. Thorin’s tongue caressed his and as the burglar moaned again, he slid his whole finger in him, fondling Bilbo’s inside gently, the hotness of it almost scorching him. It’s been so many years since he was allowed to touch someone like this, since he even wanted to touch someone like this... Thorin breathed out hard. He mustn’t think that, if he keeps thinking about that, his desire will take over him and will hurt Bilbo...

He was moving his finger nice and easy now, the hobbit panting with pleasure so visible that it brought a smile to Thorin’s lips. The hobbit seemed to have lost all his shyness, he kept unconsciously whispering silent words, some of them making the king blush...

Thorin withdrew from him, coming back with one more finger, the feeling of invading the hobbit’s body like this the most thrilling thing in his mind. Bilbo moaned again, his muscles contracting around the king’s fingers in the most frantic way and Thorin nearly withdrew from him, alarmed, but then he remembered the burglar’s words, _'whatever you do... don’t stop..._ '. And he didn't want to stop now... even if Bilbo wanted him to, he would beg him to let him finish it. Yes, he would even beg, that's how much he desired the little hobbit now... He slid both fingers inside him in one swift motion and the hobbit tilted his head to the back equally quickly, his lips parting in a voiceless scream, followed by the most erotic cry of delight the king had ever heard.

Bilbo looked at him with unfocused eyes, running his fingers over Thorin’s shoulders glistening with sweat. He tilted his head to the left a little, pressing his lips to the king’s arm, gripping it tight with his hand as Thorin’s fingers started to move inside him again. His gaze met Thorin’s and he whispered, his voice barely audible, 'Take me, Thorin... I’m begging you...'

And the king listened, with no hesitation whatsoever. The hobbit’s words were like an enchantment and he had to do what his burglar asked him to, almost as if his own free will had left him. But maybe it was still there... maybe they only wanted the same thing so very much...

For the second time he withdrew his hand from the hobbit’s hot body and used the other one to move Bilbo’s other leg, granting more space for himself.

He gripped the hobbit’s hips and moved him a little, fingers stroking lovingly the bones that were now even more visible than in Beorn’s house. He looked at Bilbo, the hobbit’s hand caressing his cheek tenderly, burying his fingers in the dwarf’s beard and kissing him softly.

'Do you love me?' he asked quietly, his honest eyes looking into his searchingly.

'Of course I do,' Thorin whispered back, taking delight from the little smile that appeared on Bilbo’s lips.

The hobbit let his hand fall onto his chest, dark blue ring shining on his finger. Thorin opened his mouth a little, surprised. How come he hadn’t noticed it there before...?

'Show me then...' the hobbit smiled a little, arching his hips against Thorin’s. The king smiled as well, kissing his burglar one more time before sliding the tip of his hardness into him.

Thorin gritted his teeth as he breached into the hot tightness of Bilbo’s inside, resting his head on the hobbit’s chest for a moment. He could feel his frantic heartbeat, he could feel him holding his breath, digging his fingernails into Thorin’s flesh. The king looked at him.

Bilbo‘s face was convulsed with pain, he was trying so hard not to scream that there was a drop of blood where he was biting his lower lip. Thorin embraced him, holding him tightly, fighting the urge to withdraw from him in an instant. Bilbo’s arms closed around him firmly, his whole body shivering, his muscles tightening around Thorin’s hardness in the most unbearable way.

'Breathe,' the king whispered, his lips caressing the hobbit's ear.

And slowly Bilbo relaxed, his breath becoming more regular, his body adjusting to the dwarf’s and he nodded a little to Thorin to continue. But still he held him close, his grip on Thorin’s shoulders never loosening, taking deep breaths through his nose, the air brushing the king’s neck...

And little by little Thorin slid in with his whole length, resting his head on the sheets next to Bilbo’s head, wiping off the sweat from his forehead. His whole body was covered with it, both their bodies, making them gliding softly over each other as Bilbo finally breathed out with relief and started to move his hips in a wonderful rhythm with Thorin’s...

Once they started to move, once he knew it would be all right, a beautiful warm bliss started to spread through Thorin. He could feel Bilbo’s hot body all around him, the hobbit’s curious hands wandering over his back and sides, fingers digging softly into his skin whenever the king hit a particularly sensitive spot. And Thorin wasn’t thinking about anything... for the first time in so many years his mind was delightfully and completely free of all worries, all his attention directed to the small hobbit in his arms and his own feelings. He felt splendidly free... With each thrust, with each breathtaking immersion in the hobbit’s soft body, he felt like crying out with pleasure. There was nothing, nothing at all, that could feel even remotely as good as this.

He was running his own fingers over Bilbo’s smooth sides, his hairless chest, brushing them over his nipples, oh so hard now as well, kissing the hobbit, dominating everything. And Bilbo let him, he let him set the pace, he let him caress every single part of him, reacting to every touch and kiss with the most arousing panting, kissing him back just as eagerly and passionately.

And the king was overwhelmed, he knew his pace was quick now, maybe even rough but he couldn’t stop it. There was no strength left in him to control this desire anymore but there came no complaint from Bilbo, no wince of pain, just a desire as deep as his.

Thorin was getting close, breathing so feverishly that the air seemed to be hurting his throat but he wanted Bilbo to come first or with him. He wanted to look at him as he climaxed, he wanted to feel it with his whole body.

'Thorin,' the hobbit panted, gasping for breath and the king looked at him, seeing him gazing somewhere behind his shoulder, 'tell me what it means... the letters...'

Thorin reached for the hobbit’s hand and saw that the letters on his ring were glowing as the soft light of the moon poured into the room.

His eyes met Bilbo’s again, focusing on him with the greatest difficulty, deep love for the little hobbit pervading his whole being. 'Beloved...' he breathed. 

The burglar’s eyes got wide and he opened his lips a little to say something but then he tilted his head to the back, arching his hips towards Thorin and the king could feel him come. He felt him hot and wet on his own stomach, he felt him tightening around his hardness, he heard him shout his name and as the hobbit pressed himself closer to him, he came as well...

Wonderful feeling of fulfillment and contentment spreading through him in mighty waves; his body, all weak and soft, was trembling sweetly, feeling terribly heavy and yet as if floating... He embraced Bilbo, burying his head into the hobbit’s neck and he knew. He had never been happier in his entire life...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... this... I can't believe I wrote this... *so embarrassed*


	13. Desolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13, in which Bilbo has to make a decision, Oin runs out of herbs and Bard is not very helpful.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I accidentally managed to upload the draft of the last chapter while still editing it... I have no clue how it happened, but my deepest apologies to anyone who read something weird that didn't make too much sense O.O

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 13 - Desolation

Bilbo was standing down by the stern of their ship, watching the Lake Town as they were passing it on their way to the Lonely Mountain. He was clutching one of the ropes firmly, resting his cheek on the wooden taffrail. It was still comfortably warm even though the morning sun was long gone behind the heavy unmoving clouds. No wind was blowing and everything, even the lake, was still, waiting for the storm to come...  

Bilbo looked up as the ship passed a house with small pier behind it. It was his pier, he had found it some time ago... It was old and partly rotten and the townsfolk didn’t go there because they were afraid that it might break beneath their feet should they step on it, but Bilbo was a hobbit and significantly lighter then men, or even dwarves, and there was no danger for him there. He never went close to the edge though, he came to like water even less during this adventure...

He would sit beneath the roof of the house, looking over the lake while being hidden from sight of anyone who might have looked from the bridge or street.

He liked to go and sit there more and more often these past days. Partly because he could see the forests spreading out on the opposite shore, the trees and their berries there ablaze with wonderful autumn colours and reminding him of his Shire when the sun shone... And partly because he could not see the Lonely Mountain from there. Whenever he saw its peak in the distance, an eerie dread took hold of his heart and he didn’t like it at all...

And sometimes he would find Bard on his little pier, the bowman sitting beneath the roof as well, deep in his own gloomy thoughts. Bilbo didn’t like him at first because Bard was even bigger pessimist than the worst dwarf but he grew to like him over time. He reminded him of Thorin in some way, because he liked to be alone as well and preferred not to talk too much; but when he did, he was always talking about interesting things and the hobbit found out that he wasn’t all that dispirited after all.

'You are a brave little soul, Mr. Baggins,' Bard muttered one day, sharpening carefully one of his arrows with slow precise movements.

'Really?' Bilbo asked him with a small smile as they sat huddled next to each other, sheltering from the autumn wind.

Bard nodded, running his finger over the tip of the arrow, 'As I understand it, you come from a place much like this one, full of trees, flowers and animals... and yet you are willingly going somewhere where you won’t have any of these things... If you succeed with your quest, you’ll have to stay inside the mountain, beside your king, because his throne is there and dwarves do not like to leave their homes and treasures... I could not do that, I love the blue sky and wild wind too much...

And I know that people here don’t really like me, but still they are my own kin, I know them. Dwarves... they are different than us. I have heard stories about Thror from my grandfather and if only because of you, I hope Thorin is nothing like him... You wouldn’t have an easy life if the golden sickness took him too...' Bard nodded his head again, looking at Bilbo with green eyes that always seemed sad, 'But perhaps hobbits are more like dwarves and you won’t find it all that hard to live among them.'

Bilbo was quiet, looking at the forest in the distance again and Bard returned to his sharpening. No, hobbits were nothing like dwarves... He sniffed the air, taking in all the scents that the wind was bringing from the shore. The blackthorn berries were ripe, and corn was harvested somewhere, and bread baked... and the earth... That’s what he could smell most of all, the fresh scent of earth itself, wild and full of life. There won’t be smells like that in Erebor... Bilbo took a shaky breath, trying to gather courage. It was all right, he told himself, he gave Thorin his promise and he was going to keep it.

There will be other scents in his new home, unknown and unfamiliar, but he will learn to love them too. He will learn to love them for sure.

.....

'Golden sickness?' Oin asked, surprised. He straightened up from where he was picking some herbs and looked at the hobbit curiously. 'Where did you hear about it, laddie? I dare say it was not from Thorin?' The old dwarf’s eyes seemed sad all of a sudden as he gazed through the trees at the Lake Town and the mountain behind it, 'No, he wouldn’t tell you about that...'

'You know it then?' Bilbo asked silently, moving a little on the tree stump where he was sitting, holding the dwarf’s basket. He preferred not to mention Bard’s name if he could help it because his companions didn’t like the bowman very much, just like they didn’t like and trust the Master of the town and his people...

'Aye, I know it,' Oin nodded, his voice so quiet that the unfamiliarity of it made the hobbit flinch. 'Thorin’s grandfather suffered from it... It is an illness of mind, taking over honourable and brave men and turning them into gold-hoarding shadows that value gems and jewels more than their own kin and care nothing about the world around them...'

He hesitated for a moment, looking at the violet blossoms in his hand but then continued, 'I wasn’t there when Smaug came, attracted by the treasure, but I’ve heard rumors... They say that right before the dragon came, Thror used to spend all his time locked away in his treasury, talking to the gold like it was alive. But most of all the Arkenstone, the Heart of the mountain... It was always shining above his throne but during those last months, Thror used to carry it around with himself wherever he went. They say that he suspected everyone from trying to steal it from him, that he mistrusted even his own son and grandson...' Oin sighed, lost in memories.

'Why did it happen?' Bilbo murmured, an inexplicable fear creeping through him, 'Why did the gold affect him so much?'

'Who knows, laddie,' Oin bent down and started to pick up the herbs again. 'When you have such an immense treasure as Thorin’s grandfather had... you start to think about what you could do with it, what you could build and make... Thror was a good king, he cared about his people, he helped wherever he could and his kingdom prospered well... but the treasure grew with it...  

And having such treasure... you just can’t help but think about what would happen if you lost it, if someone attacked you and took it all, what would then become of your people? Your kingdom? In the course of time you start to worry, protecting the gold with any means possible because you think that as long as you have it, everything will be all right. And you’re right, but if you’re not careful enough, the wealth will poison your mind... Slowly it will make you believe that it’s more important than lives of those protecting it... Or at least that’s what I believe happened...'

Bilbo sat silently, watching the older dwarf picking the blossoms carefully. Golden sickness... If they kill Smaug, the whole treasure of Erebor will be Thorin’s... It will be his responsibility to protect it and use it well... What if the gold will change him too?

Oin motioned for him to get closer with the basket and poured handful of tiny violet blossoms into it. Bilbo smiled at him apologetically. He didn’t know what the flower was called but he knew that he was the sole reason why Oin ran out of it.

The dwarf could make a special ointment out of these blossoms, one similar to the one he made for Thorin’s wrist in the elven prison, but this one helped on bruises. And Bilbo had quite a few of those lately...

He first sought Oin out that morning after he had made love with Thorin for the first time, asking him for something on his lip that was all swollen from where he bit himself the previous night. He was sore on other places too, but was too ashamed to tell Oin about those.

'What on earth happened to you, lad?' the dwarf asked, looking at him with one eyebrow raised.

'I bit myself,' Bilbo answered, avoiding Oin’s gaze in case he asked during which activity he bit himself exactly.

But the dwarf only chuckled, ' _You_ bit yourself? That’s a likely story, laddie. Here, take this. It helps on bruises and injuries of this sort... wherever they may be.'

With muttered 'thank you's Bilbo left his room then, his face red up to his pointy ears, only to be back the next day, asking for something on bruised fingers. He was immensely grateful that the old dwarf didn’t ask how did that happen as well, because then he would have to admit that he was so aroused by Thorin’s touches the night before, that while looking for something he could grab firmly instead of the king’s already scratched shoulders, he hit the bedside table accidentally with unexpected force.

And he thought that he would rather die than to come again on the third day but did anyway because his thighs hurt so damn much that he almost couldn’t get out of bed. Though when it came to how he hurt those... he blushed even after many days just thinking about it. He was only too relieved that when it came to asking for another glass vial, Thorin went to see the dwarf himself.

Yes, by now Bilbo believed that Oin could heal practically anything with his herbs...

'Isn’t there a cure? For the golden sickness...' he asked him.

'Aye, there is, and simple enough at that,' Oin nodded, 'to get away from the gold... But that is the hardest part, because one cannot do that alone...'

.....

Bilbo wasn’t really sure when, but some time between Bard telling him about dark places without birds and flowers and Oin telling him about gold with power to change a man, the nightmares began...

He couldn’t very well tell what they were about once he woke but it wasn’t so much the visions he saw in his dreams, as the feeling of utter terror that he felt while dreaming them that scared him so much...

He saw Thorin passing among the most beautiful jewels and he knew that there was something terrible hiding inside the golden piles, something just waiting for an opportunity to harm the king... but no matter how fast Bilbo ran after him, he couldn’t make it in time to warn him... He could see the king finding the Arkenstone, the stone morphing into a faceless being glittering in the light of torches, wrapping itself around Thorin, making him collapse to the ground with a deafening cry of victory. And when Bilbo fell to his knees beside him, the king looked at him with eyes dreadfully blank, eyes void of any love for the hobbit...

He saw himself wandering through the Erebor halls and seeing a little robin flying by the tall dark ceilings without end, fluttering its wings frantically, searching for a way out... And the initial joy of seeing it turned to despair as Bilbo realized that the bird would never find its way out, all the doors and gates to the mountain were blocked, no one could get outside. They were both trapped there, him and the poor robin...

And he saw the dwarves from the Blue Mountains coming to the Lonely Mountain, all overjoyed with the unexpected victory, all looking at Bilbo with contempt. How could he dare to charm their king? A small weak hobbit like him, he had no business in their glorious Erebor, by their noble king’s side; he was not their kin, he wouldn’t even know the difference between the fire opal and topaz...

He could see a beautiful dwarven lady among them, her auburn hair flowing gently; looking at Thorin with big green eyes that no man could ever resist. He saw the king looking from her to Bilbo and laughing, cruel cold sound coming from his lips, hurting the hobbit’s heart and carrying harsh words with it... _How could I have ever been so wrong? My promise to the halfling means nothing, he is not one of us. Come, my queen, take his place by my side..._

And each time Bilbo would wake with a scream, all drenched in sweat, breathing rapidly and looking around in the darkness that surrounded him, frightened of what he might find there... But Thorin’s strong arms always wrapped around him, holding him firmly as he sobbed quietly, whispering words of comfort, pressing soft kisses into his hair...

Bilbo would ignore the dreams, they were only mere figments of his mind after all... He would ignore them happily, had he not woken some early mornings to find Thorin standing by the window silently, looking to the west and Bilbo knew he was looking at the mountain, still partly hidden by the night, that he was thinking about the treasure inside it with which he could rebuild his kingdom. That was all right, that was what Bilbo knew, but the king’s eyes when he was like that... those were not the eyes he knew... He would whisper Thorin’s name at times like these and the king would look at him, blinking as if waking from a dream, smiling a little and getting back in their bed again...

It was this look of his that scared Bilbo just as his dreams. Slowly he began to dread the day when they were to set off for Erebor again. He knew something bad was bound to happen there. To Thorin, to him... to them... He was scared, he was frightened of whatever was waiting for them now, and what was waiting for them once the mountain was Thorin’s again...

'What’s wrong?' Thorin asked him when the nightmares had woken the hobbit for the fourth night in a row, 'You never had dreams like this before...' He gently forced Bilbo to look at him, brushing the tears from his cheeks.

Bilbo clutched his hand. He didn’t want to tell him, he knew there was no force on the earth strong enough to stop Thorin from going to the Lonely Mountain and trying to reclaim it. And yet... he had to at least try...

'Don’t go to the mountain, Thorin, I’m begging you,' he whispered, 'I know something’s going to happen there, I know...'

The king was looking at him in the darkness, and then embraced him again, holding him for the longest time before answering. 'You know why I have to go there...'

Bilbo buried his head in the king’s chest. He knew, of course he knew... and he hated it with his whole heart.

.....

Bilbo was stroking the annual rings beside his head absent-mindedly. The wood had gone cold, the chilly air beneath the shadow of the mountain had drawn off all the warmth from it... The Lake Town was just a mere blur in the distance now and the hobbit realized that he could hear the birds no more... The only sound there was, was the soft splashing of the waves escaping from their ship, disrupting the smooth surface...

Fili and Kili were huddled somewhere near him because he could hear their quiet whispering. They were happy to be together again and Bilbo was glad for them... Ever since Thorin told them about his bonding with the hobbit, he started to take Fili on every meeting and bargaining he went; they would sit by the fireplace till the late hours every evening, talking, and Fili’s opinion was of more importance now when the dwarves gathered above the maps each evening after supper, deciding which way to go to find the secret door. Thorin had started to prepare his nephew for the role of the future King under the Mountain...

And that left Bilbo in the low-spirited presence of Kili most of the time.

'We are like women, Mr. Boggins, you and I...' the young dwarf would mutter when they were hiding behind a potted bush or a wall, staring secretly at Thorin and Fili speaking with one of the sailors or traders. '... left home while men go out and have all the fun. Unimportant, just waiting anxiously for them to get back...'

It’s been a long time since Bilbo stopped caring about the way the young dwarf was pronouncing his name, and he even ignored the fact that waiting happily for Thorin to return to him was exactly his plan for each day... A very good plan at that. During the mornings he usually passed the bridge to the shore with Oin, learning the names and use of various herbs and then when he got back, he went for a walk with Ori, discovering the town street by street. And though he was happy while doing all that, somewhere at the back of his mind he was constantly thinking about the evening... Thorin coming to their room, smiling at him, kissing him and laying him on their bed...

But sometimes Kili would get hold of him, insisting he 'took a stroll with him'. And then they would end up following Thorin and Fili around town, the young dwarf’s eyes glued to his brother, wondering aloud why Thorin wasn’t taking him as well. After all, Fili might need an advice in the future and what help will Kili be then when he has no idea about trade and bargaining.

And even though Bilbo would die of embarrassment if either Thorin or Fili ever found out that he was spying on them, he usually peeked through the little branches or planks as well.

'Maybe he thinks that you won’t stay at Erebor, that you will want to travel, see the world...' he suggested once.

'And leave Fili alone? What a silly idea, Mr. Boggins,' Kili shook his head as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

But Bilbo wasn’t listening, he was looking at Thorin, thinking how handsome he was, taller than most dwarves, with eyes that shone like the purest spring sky... he could look at him still, because he was his... No dwarven ladies or faceless golden beings had taken him away from him yet... Thorin was still his. And the hobbit would smile while looking at him and then he would smile even wider if he saw Fili turning around from time to time, as if looking for someone in the crowd.

Because a smile would appear on Kili’s lips too then. 'There, he misses me!' he always called, turning to the hobbit with a huge grin, 'What shall we do now, Mr. Boggins?'

.....

As the ship reached the shore, Bilbo heard Dwalin’s voice, telling something to Ori. The little dwarf was hidden behind the ponies, scared of the water even more than him now...

They had spent a lot of time together in the past days, because Ori was the only one Bilbo could talk to, the only one he could confide in. And the hobbit was the only one the little dwarf had right then as well. Even though Nori had accepted his relationship with Dwalin, Ori couldn’t very well go to him with some of his more delicate questions...

And Bilbo tried very hard not to tell his friend anything about his dreams and fears, because he knew that Ori would worry about him... and he already had way too many things to worry about. But the night before, their last night in the Lake Town, the hobbit couldn’t stand it anymore, he needed to talk to someone desperately and he wished Gandalf was there. He wished he could make it better somehow, he wished he wouldn’t have to be selfish and trouble Ori.But the dreams... he knew what they were trying to tell him now. 

'I’m afraid, Ori,' he whispered when they climbed together to the balcony at the top floor.

'Of the dragon?' the little dwarf asked, clutching his new mitts and watching Bilbo with concern.

The hobbit shook his head, he didn’t think about Smaug even once lately. 'Of what happens when the dragon is dead...'

And suddenly the words were pouring from him, he couldn’t stop them. He told Ori about his fear of the Lonely Mountain, of Thorin getting hurt there...

Maybe it was there before, maybe he just hadn’t noticed, or maybe it was just his imagination, but there was something new and terrifying in Thorin’s voice when he spoke of the mountain and the treasure now. As if somehow, if it came to it, he would even lay down his life trying to reclaim it... The images of Thorin covered in blood, with eyes without life, were haunting him whenever someone mentioned Erebor and he could not stop them.

He told the little dwarf about his fear that he might not be brave enough to leave his Shire, everything he knew and loved... because the mountain and the thought of never feeling grass beneath his feet again were scaring him more than anything now...

'Thorin loves the Lonely Mountain just as much as I love my Shire... I’m not a dwarf, Ori, I could never live in your deep dark caverns and Thorin is a king. He could never be happy at Hobbiton where not much ever happens... So what will happen to us when the dragon is slain and our quest finished?'

And he even told Ori about his fear that perhaps once Thorin is on his throne he’ll mind that Bilbo is not a dwarf and realize that he doesn‘t belong there. That he doesn’t belong by his side... He feared that, even though he knew how much the king loved him, he feared it because he knew how much pressure Thorin will be under once the other dwarves arrive... They will want him to find a dwarven bride; he will have to stay at Erebor and reign because Fili was still too young and then he will need someone strong by his side...

Ori seized his hand, looking at him with upset eyes, 'Don’t say that, Mr. Baggins! You belong together, everyone can see that! And if you can’t stay here and Thorin can’t go with you to the Shire, then... then you’ll just have to find another place where you could be happy together!'

Bilbo looked at him, tears prickling in his eyes. What if there was no such place...?

.....

A strong hand wrapped around Bilbo’s waist, Thorin pulling him closer to himself and running his thumb over Bilbo’s ring, caressing the hobbit’s hand.

'We’ll have to make one for me too...'

'We?' Bilbo asked, alarmed. He wasn’t quite sure he could ever accomplish something that would even remotely resemble the perfect smooth circle Thorin made.

The king chuckled, 'I’ll make it, but you’ll have to choose the word that I’ll carve in it. If we succeed with our quest, if there is any hope at all, I’ll make it in the forges of my forefathers...' He kissed the top of Bilbo’s head gently.

The hobbit glanced at the steep hill where the other were disembarking the ponies, turning so that Thorin wouldn’t see the tears running silently down his cheeks. He took a shaky breath. No matter how much he loved his Shire, his beloved Bag End, the flowers on the fields, the quiet gurgling of Brandywine, the smell of spring in the air... he loved Thorin more than any of that.

Once they leave the ship and climb the hill, he will run his fingers through the grass, trying to remember every little detail before looking at the desolation in front of them, the wasteland without life, and he will follow Thorin through it, he will help him get his kingdom back and he will stay there with him. Till death do them part, or the king tells him to leave...

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and turned to Thorin with a smile, 'I’d love that.'

And as the king smiled back at him and kissed him softly, his lips brushing the hobbit’s, an unexpected feeling of serenity spread through Bilbo. He had chosen and no matter what happened next, he would never regret that decision...  


	14. Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 14, in which Bilbo talks in his sleep, Kili would like a baby dragon and Smaug is concerned whether everyone is nicely warm....... :)

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 14 - Dragon

Thorin brushed the hair from Bilbo’s forehead lightly, his fingers lingering in the soft curls. That was the first thing that crossed his mind when he first saw the burglar all those months ago back in Hobbiton... that at least once he would like to touch the hobbit’s locks... It was the most unsettling feeling then and he had to say something harsh so that the others wouldn’t notice... but now, now he was allowed to do it...

So many things have changed, so many things have gone wrong in those past months... The hobbit in his arms was breathing softly, his eyes closed, never fluttering, his small body never stirring. That was Oin’s doing, he had given Bilbo one of his potions that one short moment he had woken up and the burglar had slept peacefully ever since. And Thorin was glad for that. Was Bilbo awake, he would only be in pain...

The king’s gaze fell to the hobbit’s legs; both of his calves were wrapped in clean bandages, resting on Thorin’s cloak. The dwarf ran his hand over his own face, closing his eyes for a moment. This was just his fault, his and no one else’s. He had allowed it, he agreed to let Bilbo sneak down the secret tunnel and see if the dragon was there...

*****

He knew that Bilbo thought he didn’t see him, but he did. Just as they were about to set off through the burnt soil of Smaug’s desolation, Thorin glanced back at him and saw the hobbit petting the grass gently, running his fingers over the whole length of the straw and looking at the small seeds that slowly descended onto his palm.

A sharp pain ran through Thorin’s heart then. Only once had he thought about how hard it must have been for the hobbit to decide to follow him to the mountain - back in Beorn’s house, when he saw Bilbo looking at the lilies of the valley... But ever since then, whenever he thought about the days to follow, he always saw Bilbo and him together in Erebor, the burglar smiling at him as he showered him with jewels, as he gave him everything his heart desired... And until he saw Bilbo touching the grass gently on the border of his kingdom, it never occurred to him, but there were things the little hobbit’s heart desired that he could never give him...

Thorin turned around, looking at the Lonely Mountain, closer now than it had been in so many years... His home. He loved the mountain even though he knew there was nothing there he held so dear before, but he knew that could change... Soon the mountain could be pulsing with life again, life of honest, hard-working dwarves; it could be home again... It could be place that Bilbo would love one day, he knew it.

But that did not change the fact that the hobbit was scared of it now. Thorin knew because Bilbo told him himself... He didn’t tell him why, but he didn’t have to; Thorin knew as well...

He never told Bilbo that right before he woke up from his nightmares, he was mumbling quiet words in his sleep. Words of worry and fear, and the king heard them all. When it happened for the second time, he tried to wake the hobbit but that only seemed to make the dream worse. So every night after that he only kept lying next to him, caressing Bilbo’s hand because he felt like he had to do at least something, listening as the hobbit called quietly and urgently his name, tossing in bed as if he was running in his dream... And then he would hold him when he finally woke, clutching Thorin’s arms desperately and crying silently, his tears falling on the king’s skin...

Thorin was worried what he will do once they were in the wild again, without the privacy of their bedroom, how will he comfort his Bilbo then? But that last night in Lake Town... for the first time in the whole week, the hobbit slept through the night, no nightmares disturbing him. And Thorin pulled him closer to himself, till Bilbo’s head rested on his chest and he held him, caressing his back, relishing in how warm the hobbit’s naked skin felt beneath his fingers.

He took the hobbit three times that week, he knew his body as well as his own now and he could not imagine desiring anyone else this much... Pressing his lips to the hobbit’s hair, Bilbo’s voice from the night before came back to him, right before he woke with a scream again... ' _Don’t leave me for her, Thorin..._ '

The king pulled him even closer. He had no idea about what woman was Bilbo talking about, but he was not going to leave him for anyone in the whole wide world...

*****

Standing at the secret door, looking at the dark tunnel in front of them, Thorin realized that a shiver ran through his body and he didn’t know why. It might have been impatience, eagerness to run down the tunnel, to see where it led; to find the foul beast and kill it...

It might have been grief and sorrow. Standing there he remembered his father and grandfather who built the passage and one day would have told him about it. And he would have protected the secret just as well as they had, they would still be there with him when he ascended the throne, as his mentors, had Smaug not come...

Or it might have been fear. The same fear Bilbo felt... He had already lost way too many loved ones in the mountain... lost the only one he could imagine spending the rest of his life with then... And now he brought Bilbo with him. Brought him right amidst the greatest peril...

'Well, now what?' Gloin muttered, trying to see past Thorin even though there was nothing to see in the darkness. 'Should we go in?'

'There could be anything hiding there...' Fili answered, standing by the king’s side. 'Orcs, goblins...'

'Baby dragons...' Kili added and eyes of his companions flew to him, disturbed.

'You think that’s possible?' Bombur’s wide eyes roved from one to another as he gripped one of his ladles firmly, shifting so that he wasn’t standing with his back to the tunnel.

'There will be no such thing,' Thorin’s calm voice spoke, 'dragons live alone, they do not like to share, they do not let anything else to live in their lair... The only thing that could be hidden there is Smaug himself, and unless the tunnel gets any wider at some point, not even him...'

There was a murmur of relief as most of them lowered their weapons.

'I’ll go down there,' Bilbo said and everyone looked at him as if only just remembering that they had a burglar with them. He had his golden ring in his palm, 'I will see where the tunnel leads. If the dragon is there, he won’t be able to see me, and then I’ll come back.'

'Well, there’s a fine lad! Impatient to get us back our gold!' Gloin laughed, the happiness over the fact that he himself won’t have to go there more than evident in his voice as he patted the hobbit’s shoulder.

Thorin turned to look at them sharply, his eyes finding the hobbit in the low light. There was no way he was going to send a little hobbit down there, he would have bad feeling sending even Dwalin and he was twice as big as Bilbo. 'I won’t let you, it’s too dangerous,' he said, turning back to the tunnel again, wondering what to do.

He didn’t even hear the hobbit’s steps but Bilbo was suddenly next to him, looking at him with determined eyes, 'Well, what other option do we have? That’s what I’m here for, after all... Smaug won’t see me, and I’ll come back straight away.'

A movement caught Thorin’s eye and he glanced at Ori behind Bilbo. The little dwarf’s fists were clenched in front of his chest and he was peering miserably at the hobbit’s back. The king had no idea why, did Ori know something he didn’t? Did Bilbo tell him something, something that explained why he was so eager to go down a dark unknown tunnel?

Thorin took a deep breath. Bilbo was right, he won’t be seen and with the way he walked, he won’t be heard either... There was no way Smaug could fit in the narrow passage, there should be no danger...

'Very well, go,' he said, caressing Bilbo’s cheek. 'But be careful, you hear me? Anything seems wrong, you run straight back.'

The hobbit reached his own hand and placed it on top of Thorin’s, intertwining their fingers and leaning to the touch. He smiled a little at the king, his eyes shining with emotions Thorin could not read and then he slipped his ring on and disappeared.

*****

That’s when things started to go wrong. Bilbo found out that the tunnel led to the treasure hall. He found that Smaug was there, still very much alive. He took a golden cup back with him to show the others, not realizing that dragons have a very good knowledge of their hoarded gold and can tell when even so much as a small coin disappears.

They could hear the dragon’s deafening roar on their little platform in front of the secret door as it shook the whole mountain. Boulders and rocks tumbled down the foothills, some of them missing the dwarves by inches as they all scrambled to get to their feet. The forest closest to the Main gate was ablaze, orange light illuminating the desolation and in its flare they could see Smaug’s giant body soaring quickly to the skies.

They hoisted Bofur and Bombur swiftly from where they were guarding their ponies at the base of the mountain and ran for the tunnel. And as Ori, Dwalin and Dori rushed inside as the last ones, the dragon’s flames licked the secret door, singing the dwarves’ clothes and destroying their only entrance...

And hours after that, when the dragon’s roaring finally ceased, Thorin let Bilbo go down the tunnel again and he would never, for as long as he lived, forgive himself for that. Because he knew, he knew something was going to happen but he let the burglar go anyway...

They were standing in the furthest end of the tunnel, him and the hobbit and in the faint light of a tiny torch Bofur had fashioned the king could see Bilbo’s eyes fixed on Ori sleeping at their feet, Dwalin’s hand wrapped around his waist. The warrior could not touch the little dwarf’s arms because they were covered in bandages, scratched badly...

When they all ran inside, the rock upon which Dwalin was standing collapsed and by some miracle, little Ori managed to catch him, holding him till Dori ran to help him hoist him up, the skin on his thin arms chafing against the sharp rocks... Dwalin had saved his life back in the Lake town and now Ori had saved his...

'If Smaug is still out, we could sneak through the treasure hall and run away from here,' Bilbo whispered, not looking at the king. 'You’ve seen him, Thorin, we don’t stand a chance against him. He’s way bigger than I thought and there’s only fourteen of us... He could kill us all, one by one...' he turned to the dwarf, 'or... maybe he’s back and sleeping, I can go and see. Maybe he has some weak spots... something that could help us kill him...'

Thorin shook his head. An unfathomable fear taking hold of his heart, something he hadn’t felt in many years... 'I won’t let you go down there all by yourself... he could kill you within a heartbeat...'

'He won’t see me...' the hobbit objected quietly, dropping his eyes to the ground.

'Bilbo,' Thorin exhaled. He did not understand, he did not know why the hobbit was so anxious to get away from him and into danger. The king closed his eyes for a moment, he was so tired. It was as if he was back in Thranduil’s prison, the elvenking putting his spell on him, draining him of all the strength. 'Why are you doing this?'

And then suddenly the hobbit was in his arms, pressing himself to the king desperately. And Thorin hugged him, wrapping his cloak around Bilbo as well because the burglar was shivering.

'I want you to have your kingdom back and be happy,' the hobbit’s voice was trembling as if he was swallowing tears, 'and this is all I can do, so please... let me.'

Thorin bent down, kissing Bilbo with so much force that he felt he was bruising his lips. He embraced him then again and even though he knew, deep down, that he was making a huge mistake he whispered into the hobbit’s ear, 'Go then...' And as Bilbo nodded, pressing his lips to the king’s one more time, darkness took him again.

And Thorin didn’t move, he was staring down the black tunnel, fighting the urge to abandon his sleeping companions and run after Bilbo.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, how long he was listening for any unknown sounds among the dwarves’ snoring but suddenly a terrible snarl shook the mountain walls. All around Thorin the dwarves were waking, grasping their axes and looking into the darkness in front of them. Bofur and Gloin lit more torches but that did not help a thing. Silence fell again and no one moved.

And then another snarl sounded, fiercer and angrier than before and at the same time, orange light of fire appeared at the opposite end of the tunnel; the flames scorching the walls in the distance before quiet fell again.

Thorin could hear himself shouting Bilbo’s name as he ran down the tunnel, the red-hot walls of the tunnel showing him way as he stumbled over small stones, trying desperately not to think about what could have befallen his little Bilbo, trying not to think about how much hurt he must be... that he might not even be alive anymore. Anger so savage filled him that had anything got into his way, he would have killed it with his bare hands...

He kept running, his anger and fear giving him strength and then he saw Bilbo on the ground, right were the scorched walls ended. He could hear the dragon pacing somewhere nearby, hitting mountains of gold in his own anger, the sound of scattered coins filling the stuffy air.

Thorin fell on his knees beside Bilbo, turning him gently around. His eyes were closed but apart from his legs it seemed like the flames didn’t reach him. A little hope filled the king’s heart. Perhaps he only choked on the smoke and fainted... He picked him up as carefully as he could and ran back. Oin, he kept thinking, Oin will be able to cure him for sure...

*****

Thorin was clutching Bilbo’s hand as the old dwarf bent over him, listening for breath; he held on to him so firmly that he was probably leaving blue marks on his white skin, but he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t let go of his little burglar. He was breathing heavily, exhausted from his dash back and peering at Oin.

'He’s alive, all right,' the dwarf muttered and all the other dwarves who were clustered around them breathed out with relief, sitting back on their cloaks to give Oin space to treat the hobbit’s legs. All except Kili and Ori, who sat down behind Oin’s back; out of his way and still close, watching the old dwarf as he worked with eyes full of concern. And Thorin naturally.

The king didn’t move an inch, Bilbo’s head still resting in his lap. He did however loosen his grip on the hobbit’s hand, holding it gently now that the fear fell of him a little.

'It ain’t half that bad, lad,' Oin looked at him with a small smile, 'he’ll be running again in a day or two.' He rummaged in his bag for a moment, and when he then took out several small phials, opening some of them, the smell covered Thorin like a soft veil and he fell into a deep sleep, his body weak, and tired just as his mind...

He woke some time later because Bilbo stirred in his arms, and noticed that all the others were sleeping as well. Except Dwalin, who was standing on his watch with his back to his companions and Oin, who was leaning over Bilbo. The hobbit moved his legs, all covered in clean strips of cloth and winced with pain a little, opening his eyes.

'Are you in pain?' the old dwarf asked quietly.

Bilbo nodded, his breath all uneven. 'Thorin...' he rasped.

'I’m here,' the king said as Oin conjured up a cup of something sweet smelling and pressed it to the hobbit’s lips.

'Drink it, laddie, it will make the pain go away,' he told him and Bilbo obeyed, gulping down the whole cup while his eyes closed again.

'Tell Thorin that I...' his head dropped back to the king’s lap and when they next heard his breathing, it was peaceful and even.

Thorin shot an alarmed look at Oin who only smiled lightly before settling on his cloak beside them, 'That is quite normal, lad, don’t fret.'

The king bent down, kissing the hobbit’s forehead softly, moving his cloak beneath Bilbo’s feet so that it was back to where it was before the burglar woke. He took a deep breath and met Dwalin’s gaze.

'Get some sleep, Thorin,' the warrior muttered, looking at sleeping Ori before turning back to the tunnel. 'Nothing’s going to harm us here.'

No, Thorin thought, not in the tunnel but everywhere else in the mountain. Smaug was five times bigger than when he last saw him and there were too few of them... Unless the dragon really had some weakness, they had no chance to kill him. He looked at Fili and Kili, huddled next to each other beside Ori, snoring lightly. They were all that was left of Durin’s line... So many of their kin had already died because of the dragon, he wasn’t going to lose anyone else. 

' _It doesn’t do to dwell on the past._ '  That’s what Balin told him once...

They had new home now. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, the Blue Mountains were home. His nephews never even knew any other, and Bilbo... the hobbit would like it better there, there were fields and forests all around it. And their treasure will be safe where it was, no one could touch it as long as Smaug lived. It will be safe till the dragon gets old and Fili’s son or grandson will come and reclaim the mountain...

Thorin bent down, kissing Bilbo again, leaving his lips on the hobbit’s for a moment because it was giving him courage. 'When the dragon goes out again, we will leave the mountain,' he whispered against the burglar’s lips. 'We will go home.'

He took a shaky breath, leaning on the rock behind him again. If the tunnel leads to hall with treasure, there were two ways which they could take to get out. He saw them before him as if it was only yesterday that he had walked through Erebor. They will take the shortest one, the one leading through the hall with throne. He will look at it for the last time, remembering the days that were and then they will walk out through the Main gate. He could live with that, that was a dignified way to leave...  


	15. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 15, in which decisions are made, promises broken and dreams shattered.....

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 15 - Darkness

When Bilbo woke up, he felt warm and strangely comfortable where he was snuggled deep in his cloak. Sniffing the cold morning air, he wondered whether it was really a smell of grass and trees the wind had brought into their watchtower. He sniffed again, opening his eyes with a small smile. It really was like that, they were by the forest after all, the whole desolation separating them from the Lonely Mountain now.

He looked at Ori who was sleeping next to him, snoring almost inaudibly. Unlike the others... The whole room was trembling with the snores of his companions. He couldn’t stand that noise in the beginning of their journey but now it was familiar and dear. Thorin wasn’t there... he didn’t come to sleep by his side the whole night and Bilbo knew he was still outside by the entrance, watching the gates of Erebor...

The hobbit closed his eyes again, burying his head under his cloak, wrapping one hand around the Arkenstone protectively. It was safely hidden in the old cloak he was using as a pillow and Bilbo clutched it. He couldn’t explain why he took it and didn’t tell Thorin about it. He wanted the king to have it, but not here... He wanted it to shine above throne that Thorin didn’t die to reclaim...

He stretched his hand from beneath his cloak, caressing the place where the king normally slept and which was now empty and cold. He had hoped, so much...

He could still see them... Thorin’s eyes once they entered the treasure hall, two days after he got hurt in the tunnel. There was no sign of the dragon during the whole time, not a roar or a hiss, not even faint glow of flames... The mountain was silent and as if not to disturb it they were quiet too, not talking to each other and if, then only in whispers.

But on that second day they decided to risk it. They had no more water left, not to mention any food and were so desperate that even being eaten by a dragon didn’t seem so bad anymore. Those were the longest days of Bilbo’s life, not because everyone was upset and starved, but because Thorin suddenly seemed so resigned... It was as if he had come to some sort of conclusion that pained him but he believed was for the best. He didn’t tell anyone about his decisions, not even to Dwalin, and that only made Bilbo worry more...

He spent most of the time sitting pressed to Thorin, the king running his fingers over Bilbo’s blue ring, looking more sad than ever. But on that second day he said that they will take a chance and if Smaug is not there, leave the mountain. And for once all the dwarves agreed, murmuring about the need to find out the dragon’s current whereabouts and replenishing their supplies before returning back. But on that Thorin didn’t say anything and for that short moment Bilbo allowed himself to hope that maybe he didn’t want to come back, that maybe he wanted to leave because he realized that the danger was far too big...

But then they entered the treasure hall, stopping so that the dwarves could get some weapons and slowly, one by one, they had all drifted in their own directions, all amazed and each appreciating something else on their way through the hall. Bilbo saw Dori admiring the sapphires, Gloin running happily around, digging for gems in the mountains of gold; Fili and Kili by some ancient crown jewels; Dwalin and Balin talking in one of the side vaults... and Thorin.

Thorin wandering through the hall seemingly aimlessly... but Bilbo knew perfectly well that he was looking for something. He knew for what, by then his small fingers were wrapped around it in his pocket, the Arkenstone tickling his palm lightly.

And with each step the king took, he seemed more agitated, more impatient, till he finally snapped at Gloin when the dwarf asked him if he needed some help. And Bilbo was there as well, standing near Gloin, watching Thorin’s face full of anger so vicious that it made the hobbit’s heart pound with fear more than when he stood facing the dragon.

And then Thorin’s glare turned to him and for a scary moment the king didn’t seem to recognize him, looking at him as if he wasn’t his burglar, but a burglar sent by someone else to steal his treasure. Bilbo clutched his fists. He knew this was going happen, he knew the beast from his dreams that lived in the gold would take his Thorin too, that it would make him do and say terrible things meant to hurt... But he won’t allow that.

He took one step closer to Thorin, looking straight into his eyes and trying not to wince with fright. It was scaring him, making his whole body tremble, the furious glare with which the king was staring at him. Oin said that one cannot fight the golden sickness alone and Bilbo gave his promise, he won’t let the king stand alone. He was glaring back at Thorin with the same intensity; no matter what the king says, no matter what he does, Bilbo will not leave him, he will try anything to help him and get him away from there...

And then Thorin blinked, looking at the others who had all gathered around them and Bilbo’s shoulders relaxed a little when the king then gave command to leave the mountain.

...

Bilbo was looking at the dark ceiling above him, listening carefully. He thought he heard something in the snoring of the dwarves, something he didn’t hear for a long time. And there it was again. He sat up quickly. How could it be?

The others started to wake as well with the unexpected noise but the hobbit was faster than them. He scrambled to his feet, taking great caution not to shift the bandages on his legs and then he ran straight to the entrance.

First he saw Dwalin and Thorin, standing side by side not far from him and looking at the forest with the same surprised expression.

'Are those birds I hear?' Bilbo asked, shielding his eyes and blinking as he gazed at the trees. All sorts of birds were flying there, twittering among themselves as if arguing who will take which tree in a never-ending swirl of wings; their singing and chirping filling the air. All the dwarves were outside now, all looking at the birds with small smiles and much elevated spirits. This was a good omen for sure!

A smile appeared on Thorin’s lips too as he looked at Bilbo and nodded. And just like that the birds were forgotten, leaving only the king’s smile and piercing blue eyes looking at him. Looking at him the way they used to...

And Bilbo would have run to him, would have hugged him and kissed him, grateful that they got from the mountain, both alive, but a huge raven landed suddenly on the rock beside the king, watching them with black clever eyes. 

'Be at peace, Thorin son of Thrain, I am not thy enemy,' it said, turning to the king as he reached for his sword, 'I bring you news. Smaug is dead and the elves and men of the Lake Town are marching this way now, to claim your treasure.'  

The quiet and happy murmuring of the dwarves stopped abruptly when the raven finished his speech and dead silence fell. All eyes focused on Thorin, ready to follow whichever command he gave.

And the king looked at Fili for some reason, his expression darkening. The young dwarf glanced at Kili beside him and then back at Thorin again, as if unsure whether the elves and men coming was somehow his fault.

'Back to the mountain!' the king’s strong voice called then, 'We must block the gate!'

And all around Bilbo the dwarves started to move at once, running inside the watchtower and gathering their things and the food they had found on one of their lost ponies, rushing as well as they could. And among them Bilbo was still standing, unable to move. He kept his eyes on Thorin, but the king wouldn’t look at him, his gaze fixed on Erebor again.

'Your cloaks, Mr. Baggins,' Ori was next to him, passing him unknowingly the Arkenstone. The heart of the mountain. And for the first time in his life deep hatred filled Bilbo and he wished he could break it, destroy it so that the whole mountain would die with it, causing no more pain and hurt to anyone else...

*****

'The dragon destroyed their town, Thorin,' Bilbo was padding behind Thorin as quickly as he could, the king marching in front of him through the silent and cold Erebor halls. The hobbit knew where he was heading, he knew this way even though he had never walked it before.

'So?'

'He destroyed their town because we made him angry!' Bilbo hesitated for a moment. That was not true, they did not make him angry, he did. All this was only his fault...

'So? We didn’t tell him to burn the Lake Town, he did that of his own will. He burnt the town, they killed him. We owe them nothing.'

A chill ran through the hobbit, how could Thorin be so cruel? 'There are children and women there! There are hurt and sick people, they don’t have anywhere to go. Don’t you care about them at all?'

'No,' Thorin reached big oaken door, adorned richly with scenes Bilbo had no time to look at. The dwarf stopped there, turning to the hobbit. 'They did not care either when the dragon took our kingdom and our women and our children needed help. You’ve seen that the elven king is with them, he can surely help them now that they are such good allies.'

Bilbo saw Thranduil. He was standing right next to Bard when they came asking for a share of gold from the dwarves’ treasure to repair their town. He saw the elf’s unconcerned expression when the bowman was telling them about the state of his people... He knew Thranduil won’t be of much help.

'Thorin,' Bilbo said quietly, 'please help them...'

'No, we can hold the mountain long enough for Dain to bring the reinforcements from the Iron Hills. They will not see a single gold coin as long as I live.' He turned back to the door and pushed it, the heavy wood moving slowly under his pressure. He entered another hall and the hobbit slipped inside after him, shaking. All his nightmares were coming true... all of them... Thorin possessed by a golden beast... covered in blood, his eyes blank, lost in a needless battle...

He ran after him and grabbed the king’s hand, forcing him to stop. 'And what if not? What if we can’t hold the mountain that long? We’ll all get killed! Kili, Fili, Ori... That’s what you want? Does the gold have the same price as our blood? Please, Thorin... don’t let it go that far...'

The king was looking at him, the anger disappearing from his face, sadness taking its place. 'I thought you’d understand...' he said quietly. 'Do you know where we are?'

Bilbo looked around, the beauty of the vast hall taking his breath away. He didn’t know how it was possible because from outside the mountain seemed like an impenetrable solid mass but there were huge openings in it, some sort of long narrow windows, the evening sun pouring in trough them, illuminating the hall very well. The ceiling there was lower, but still the place seemed grand and noble. A long row of statues was adoring one side, the rays of the sun falling on their stone faces, gray and yet alive looking; proud and magnificent, each and every one of them with a crown on its head, each and every one of them resembling Thorin in some way...

'The Hall of the kings,' the hobbit muttered in awe.

Thorin took his hand and led him through it, reaching a statue that stood at the end alone, having no one by its side even though there was still a lot of room. 'These are statues of my forefathers, the kings under the Mountain. My grandfather’s statue was supposed to stand here once he passed away, and there, my father’s. And over there mine...' the king looked at Bilbo, 'I wanted to leave the mountain because I knew it was safe from the elves and men and everyone else and one day Fili or his son could reclaim it. I knew that once they do, they will build the statues of three kings that fought but failed to bring them home. I could have lived with that, but today... If we leave, if we don’t try to protect Erebor, the elves and men will take the treasure, all of it... There will be nothing for my heirs to claim, nothing with which to rebuild our kingdom. No one will ever come here, no one will build the statues and tell our stories, everything will rot and be forgotten. There will be no more hope anymore, no more glory... All the magnificence of what my people had bled to build will be gone. I can’t do that...'

Bilbo felt tears prickling in his eyes and he clutched Thorin’s hands, 'But... if you give Bard and the others something, they will leave... and then we can rebuild your kingdom in peace...'

Thorin ran his thumb over the hobbit’s cheek, 'And how can you be sure they will leave? How do we know that they won’t come again once their gold runs out? With an army far stronger than this one...'

The hobbit shook his head, 'I don’t know, but we could try... there’s so much gold and jewels down there...'

A shadow passed over Thorin’s face again, 'Yes, and it’s only ours, you hear? Only dwarves’! I won’t let any elf or man ever touch it!'

Bilbo took one step away from him, frightened all of a sudden by the dwarf. 'What about me?' he whispered, 'I’m a hobbit...'

The king’s expression softened and he stepped closer to Bilbo, cupping his cheeks and running his thumb over the hobbit’s lips. He bent down, kissing the burglar, 'You know very well I didn’t mean it like that, one fourteenth of the treasure is yours. But... you won’t leave me with it, will you? You won’t take your part and go away? You can’t do that, you’re mine,' he kissed him again, 'and I’m yours...'

One fourteenth was his, Bilbo thought miserably as he returned the king's kiss. His to give away... The people of the Lake town had treated them well in the past and they needed help now. He didn't want to fight against them, he didn't want to see Thorin getting hurt in a battle he could have stopped. Because he could do that, he realized suddenly, he could save all their lives and help the Lake men at the same time... but if he does that, the gold might not be the only thing he would be giving up...

*****

'Where did you get it, you thieves?!' Thorin shouted, and his deep voice resonated through the whole desolation.

Bilbo crouched a little where he was standing beneath the tall wall that was now blocking the Main gate and upon which most of his companions were now standing, looking down at Bard and the elven king. The hobbit didn’t have to be up there to know what thing Thorin was talking about. The Arkenstone... The name of the stone carried through the mountain, whispered by every single dwarf with incredulity. Even Ori beside him muttered it, taking one step closer to the wall in his curiosity, whispering 'How...?' to himself...

The hobbit took a deep breath before mumbling, 'I gave it to them...' His voice sounded weak and terrified in the oppressive silence and he flinched as everyone turned to look at him. He took one more breath; that was all right, that was to be expected, he could explain...

Ori staggered one step away from him and Bilbo looked at him, alarmed. He opened his mouth to say something but then someone’s hands closed around him painfully and pushed him against the wall.

Thorin.

He was clutching the hobbit’s arms, looking at him angrily and Bilbo knew the others had come down as well but he couldn’t take his eyes away from the king. Thorin was looking at him as if he hated him with his whole heart just then.

The king took a deep breath, trying to control his anger upon seeing the hobbit’s shining eyes, 'Did you give them the Arkenstone?'

Bilbo nodded.

'Of your own free will?'

Bilbo nodded again, ashamed of the warm tears making their way slowly over his burning cheeks.

'Why?!' Thorin growled, 'Why would you betray me like that?' He squeezed the hobbit‘s arms again and shook him.

Tears burst out from the hobbit’s eyes with new force. Not because the king was hurting him, but because of how cruel and cold his eyes were when he was glaring at him. Because of the pain that was behind them... He had promised... that night in Lake Town when Thorin asked him, he promised never to betray him but now he did... because...

'You said one fourteenth of the treasure is mine,' he said, stammering as he gasped for breath, 'you can give it to Bard for the Arkenstone and they will leave peacefully. There won’t have to be any battle, they will leave as your friends, you will be able to live in harmony as neighbours, no ill will among you... Don’t you see? It was the only way for us to survive!'

Thorin let go of his arms as if he was some wretched creature that was not worth his touch and moved away from him a little, taken aback. 'So you went and gave them what I hold dear more than anything here?'

A cry of sorrow made its way from Bilbo’s lips, his heartbeat dull and painfully slow, almost as if his entire chest was suddenly empty. He could feel the king's words resonating through him and he staggered. _What I hold dear more than anything here..._ 'What you hold dear more than anything here...' he repeated, as if with repetion the harsh meaning of those words might change. But it didn't... The hobbit started to shiver, Thorin couldn’t mean that... He loved him... That was the golden beast talking, not his Thorin. Bilbo wanted to say something, but Thorin sneered, closing the distance between them again.

'Very well, you shall get your wish. Balin!' he called, his eyes still piercing the poor hobbit, 'Tell Bard they will get their gold by tomorrow‘s morning. Tell him they can take the burglar too. He is very true to that word after all...'

There was a murmur of disapproval from the other dwarves but Bilbo didn’t hear them. He wouldn’t deem it possible but he started to shake even more.

'Thorin...' he whispered, searching for any kind of sign that the king didn’t mean what he had just said, but finding none. 'Don’t do that... don’t send me away...'

The dwarf was standing so close to him that for a fleeting moment Bilbo believed that he was going to kiss him, that he was going to tell him that he could never let him go, but then Thorin spoke, his voice vicious, 'And what did you think I would do?'

Bilbo reached out his hands, clutching the king’s cloak desperately, 'I did it for you! You must see, you must understand that! I couldn’t bear seeing you hurt! Please, Thorin, don’t send me away...' It was taking all the strength he had not to fall on his knees. 'I’m begging you...' he whispered, dropping his head, his tears falling on Thorin’s shirt... the same shirt he had taken off the king so many times... He had caressed the skin beneath, he loved it because it was Thorin's... that was no lie, how could Thorin not understand? Why would he not believe him?

'You brought this on yourself,' the king said, 'didn’t I ask you... never to betray...' He hesitated for a moment, his hand almost reaching for Bilbo’s but then he grasped the hobbit’s shoulders and pushed him away roughly.  

He turned around and went in the direction of the treasure hall and a surge of anger filled Bilbo suddenly. He shouted, his voice wavering but he tried hard to keep it steady, 'Fine! If you love your cursed treasure so much, go and be with it! See if it ever loves you back like I do! I asked you not to leave me! I asked you not to come to this mountain! I asked you not to let the wealth blind you and let the bloodshed happen! How many times did you listen to me? How many times did you do what I asked? Were it not for you I wouldn’t even be here, you could die peacefully among your gold and gems and I wouldn’t care! I don’t care! How could I have ever... only loved you so much...' his voice faltered and he wasn’t even sure whether he had said the last words aloud...

His chest was heaving, new tears filling his eyes as the hopelessness of what he was doing hit him. He ran his sleeve over his eyes, blinking rapidly. And then he was running...

He ran down the hall, away from the gate, down one corridor and another... He ran till he couldn’t catch his breath anymore, till he didn’t know where he was...

And then he stopped, pulling the blue ring from his finger and throwing it into the darkness in front of him with all the force he could still muster. He heard it hit the wall somewhere, falling and rolling for a moment and then there was silence. And once the quiet fell, all the fury disappeared from him, leaving him frightfully empty...

He heard someone running after him, light steps reaching him... and when Ori hugged him, Bilbo’s knees gave up and he fell to the floor, the little dwarf still keeping his arms around him, stroking him gently without saying anything.

And the hobbit broke down. He had never cried so hard in his entire life, the echo of his weeping resounded through the chamber, making everything a thousand times worse... He wept with his head pressed to Ori’s shoulder, his chest heaving with sobs, till his throat was all sore and burning...

They sat there for a long time, the hobbit weeping silently, till he cried all the tears he could in his grief and sorrow. He wished he had never left his Shire, he wished he had never met Thorin Oakenshield, he wished he had never fallen in love with him... The months they had together, the dwarf’s tender touches, his words full of love... all that was gone now, never to come back again...

Even his butterflies were gone... they had died, leaving Bilbo barren and all alone. They needed Thorin for their life, just like Bilbo did... but the king had left him...

Only one butterfly was still alive, fluttering its broken wings feebly... just as scared and lonely as the little hobbit...

'It was just a dream...' he whispered to Ori, 'I always knew I’d have to wake up...'

All along, it was too good to be true... he had no place by Thorin’s side and he knew it. And yet... he had allowed himself to hope. Back on the Carrock, in Beorn’s house, in Mirkwood, in the elvish prison, in the Lake Town... even here... But nothing of it was true anymore, it was just a dream he was lucky to dream. And life was not made of dreams...

And slowly, having no more strength, that last butterfly started to fall... 


	16. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 16, in which there is grass, and flowers, and hobbits but no dwarves..... or am I just lying? ;)

# Where Butterflies Never Die

### Chapter 16 - Dream

Bilbo was lying on his back on the soft grass. He had his eyes closed because the sun was shining straight on him, making him comfortably warm. A gentle wind ruffled the grass around him and the hobbit let his fingers sink into it, caressing the straws lazily. The irises were in bloom on his left, their scent wrapping Bilbo like freshly washed blanket.

He sighed contentedly, rolling over on his side and sniffing all the beautiful smells. Everything was so warm and nice where he was... there were no cold and hard stones...

He didn’t want to think about it but the image of the cold floor at the Main gate, all that time ago, came from his memory. The way he was huddled there after Ori brought him from the cold chamber to their fire. The others were taking the wall apart so that they could give Bard his gold in the morning... so that they could send Bilbo with it on Thorin’s command...

Just the thought of the king’s name was hurting him then. He had been harmed so many times during their adventure and still nothing hurt half as bad as his heart that night. He was hidden under his cloak, curled up in a ball, breathing on his fingers because they were cold for some reason. He crept as close to the fire as he dared and still his hands were freezing and he was shivering. Someone put another cloak on him and stroked his arm gently and he knew it was Ori and that only brought more tears into his eyes.

He thought he had cried them all before but Ori’s kindness brought brand new bitter tears. He loved the little dwarf too, he was his friend. Bilbo never had friends like Ori in the Shire and now he will have to leave him... He will go back to being all alone in the world... but maybe that was for the best... Maybe if he travels back alone, some orc or goblin will get him and kill him and he won’t have to suffer like this anymore, in a world without hope, without love...

...

Bilbo shook his head, opening his eyes for a moment before closing them again, assuring himself that he was still on the warm grass, the flowers around him rocking gently in the evening breeze... He mustn’t think of such things, they were long gone, they were almost forgotten...

And yet... no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t push the memory of the following morning from his mind.

He didn’t even know when he had fallen asleep; he was just weeping silently, Ori’s hand soothing him and he heard the others settling by the fire finally as well... And then it was suddenly morning, and Oin woke up first as usual, untangling from his cloak and fussing around the fire, and for that short moment Bilbo thought that all that happened the day before was just another horrible nightmare. That they were back on the road, that soon Bombur will start to prepare breakfast and Gandalf or Bofur will come to wake him and Th...

Bilbo opened his eyes, knowing it wasn’t a dream. Oin wasn’t fussing around the fire, he was sitting by the smouldering embers and looking at the hobbit with sad expression. And Bilbo got scared that he will start to cry again because he knew the old dwarf cared about him as well, but he didn’t. Had he enough strength it would have surprised him but he felt so weak, so numb, he just kept looking back at Oin, feeling like a mere empty shell... And the dwarf frowned for a moment, but then nodded slightly, looking back at the cinders...

Bilbo turned to Ori who was sleeping next to him, wrapped in Dwalin’s cloak. The warrior was not there but at least he was alive and safe, at least the two of them will be together and happy...

The others started to wake, but neither of them was talking or eating. They were just sitting quietly like Oin, smoking their pipes. And Bilbo would have liked to tell them that they didn’t need to be sad because of him, that they should cheer because they had reclaimed their kingdom... but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to say a word, bring himself to do anything else than sit and stare at the embers in front of him...

He had nothing left and he didn’t care one bit what will happen next... Thorin wasn’t there but that didn’t matter, without him nothing mattered anymore...

So Bilbo sat there till Bard and the elven king came. Dwalin approached him then, as the others started to take the chests with gold outside, helping him up because the hobbit’s legs nearly gave up beneath him when he tried to stand up.

'I am...' Dwalin said in his deep voice, looking at the gate, 'really sorry that it came to this. You are a kind and brave person, Bilbo Baggins and I hope you will find happiness in your life again.' His eyes found the hobbit’s, 'And thank you. I’ll be forever grateful for what you did.' He patted the burglar’s shoulder when Bilbo tried but failed to say something and accompanied him through the gate.

The sun was shining and the hobbit saw Bard standing nearby with Thorin and the elven king and turned away quickly. He saw the bowman looking at him with pity and he couldn’t stand that. But more importantly he couldn’t look at the dwarven lord. The moment he did, his heart would shatter and he would collapse to the ground, begging death to take him.

One by one his companions came to him, hugging him and wishing him safe journey home and all this time Bilbo managed to smile bravely back at them, wishing them, in his turn, luck rebuilding Erebor. A place that was supposed to be his new home and which he will now never see in its restored beauty...

He had to bite his tongue real hard to stop himself from crying when Kili hugged him, tears running down the boy’s cheeks.

'One day, when Fili doesn’t need me that much, I think I will travel and visit you in your Shire, Mr. Boggins...'

Bilbo laughed, drying his eyes with his sleeve and making it look like he was just removing his curls ruffled by wind from his face. 'Please do...'

'I hope you won’t try to slam the door in our faces again,' Fili joined them with a small smile, hugging the hobbit as well. His eyes were a bit red as well but no one could see any tears in them unless he looked very carefully.

'I won’t, I promise,' Bilbo said, smiling back at them.

'Now, laddie, I did my best to teach you about herbs and I hope you won’t forget it all and do some good in your Hobbiton,' Oin was there suddenly, smiling softly.

'I will try my best, Master Oin,' the hobbit said, swallowing tears. He had spent so many hours with the old dwarf in the forests around the Lake Town that he almost became like a father to him...

'Good, good,' Oin nodded and then slowly went to the others.

There was only one dwarf left whom he didn’t say his goodbye yet. He turned to look at little Ori where he was standing beside Dwalin. He wanted to say goodbye to him before once... back when they were leaving Rivendell. Had he done it then, none of this would have happened. But he knew, deep down, that had he any chance to take it all back, to turn and ran down to Elrond’s house, he wouldn’t. He would always get back into their line and follow Thorin. Always.

'My very dear friend,' Bilbo said, smiling at Ori. 'You must come and visit me when you’re on your search for home.' He knew that Ori didn’t know about it but he heard them talking with Dwalin that night in the watchtower... The warrior telling Ori that he will leave the mountain with him and look for a home where the little dwarf could plant and grow the flowers he loved so much... He wanted to leave Erebor because he knew Ori wouldn’t be happy there... And a little hope sparkled in Bilbo now. Maybe in the end they will see that Shire is wonderful and come to live with him... He wished for it dearly...

He smiled at Dwalin too, he wanted him to know that he was grateful for his words before, even though he had no words of his own how to tell him. He remembered the evenings in the Lake Town when the warrior would wake up and listen with a soft smile to Bilbo chattering about how Ori had moved and mumbled in his sleep... He came to love Dwalin as well.

'We will,' Ori whispered quietly, blinking. Tears were in his eyes as he hugged the hobbit, 'I’m so sorry -'

'There is nothing for you to be sorry about, Ori,' Bilbo said firmly. 'Nothing of this was your fault, so don’t be sad. You two take good care of each other...' He managed to smile at them one last time and then went slowly to Bard.

Thranduil was standing on the bowman’s left side as usual, eyeing the hobbit with amused curiosity. On Bard’s right side Thorin stood, watching like the others as the last chest full of gold coins was hoisted up and carried away from the Main gate.

The bowman then turned to him, passing him a small box in which the cursed Arkenstone shone and Bilbo expected the dwarven king to grab it and march inside Erebor with it but he didn’t. Thorin was standing still for a long moment and then said, 'You can keep that, too.'

The hobbit’s eyes were fixed on the ground the whole time but he saw Bard looking at Thorin with surprise before gazing at Thranduil as if making sure that he really heard correctly. The elven king’s pretty face seemed just as surprised, though in a more graceful way.

'I’d much rather have my burglar back,' Thorin’s deep voice said and Bilbo knew he was looking at him. And despite himself he chanced a glance at the king. Why was he saying such things? Was this some sort of cruel joke?

Thorin was looking straight at him, sad and tired, older somehow... He took a step closer to the hobbit but Bilbo winced and moved unintentionally away from him.

'I’m so sorry,' Thorin said quietly and Bilbo’s heart started to pound. He knew that voice, that was his Thorin’s voice... voice of the one who loved him. 'Please forgive me. For everything I’ve done to you... I know I didn’t listen to you, I’ve brought you here and broke all my promises to you... Except for one. I could never leave you... so I am begging you now, don’t leave me. I’ll leave the mountain with you, I’ll go wherever you want, do anything you want me to do, just...'

He took a deep breath, taking one step towards the hobbit again.

Bilbo was looking back at him, looking at the piercing blue eyes that used to be filled with so much love... And it was there again, the shadow that was clouding his eyes before was gone... But what if that was just for now? What if it will come back once Thorin enters the mountain again...? The hobbit’s gaze moved to where the elves and men from the Lake Town were carrying chests full of jewels and gold away from Erebor...

Thorin said he would never allow that but now he did... He gave away one fourteenth of the treasure and was willing to give up even Arkenstone... for him. Did he manage to break the spell the golden beast had put on him? He must have, otherwise he wouldn’t be standing here, watching his gold being taken away by someone else...

And he said he didn’t want him to leave... he didn’t want him to leave... he didn’t... that meant... The hobbit looked at his finger where the blue ring used to be. _Beloved_... that’s what Thorin used to call him... because he loved him then. And he didn’t want him to leave now, because... he loved him still...  

Bilbo’s heart started to pound even more feverishly as he turned around and walked slowly to Ori.

'I have a favour to ask.'

The little dwarf looked nervously from Thorin to him and then nodded, 'All right.'

The hobbit reached inside his pocket, closing his fingers around a small brass key for the last time before taking it out and passing it to Ori with a smile. He chuckled; he never really realized how beautiful it was to smile happily, 'I think I will stay here, so... will you take care of Bag End for me?'

There was a silence for few moments before everyone realized what that meant.

Ori was the first one. He laughed just as happily as Bilbo, flinging his hands around the hobbit’s shoulders so delightedly that they almost staggered. They were both still giggling when Ori let go of him to look at Dwalin, asking him if he could reply what he obviously wanted to reply.

And the warrior chuckled too, nodding softly.

'It will be an honour for us, Mr. Baggins,' Ori said then, the widest smile on his lips as he clutched the key, treating it as if it was made of mithril. 'And I have something for you, too,' he added with a whisper so quiet that Bilbo almost didn’t hear. The little dwarf reached for his hand and pressed something cold in his palm. A ring, his blue ring he had thrown away...

Bilbo beamed at him with immense gratitude, putting it back on his finger. And once it was there, once it was where it belonged, warmth started to spread through the hobbit. His cold hands nice and warm again...

He turned his gaze to Thorin then, amazed. How could it be...

The king was looking back at him, as if not sure if all that really meant that the hobbit was going to stay with him. And Bilbo walked to him slowly, still half afraid that maybe he was dreaming, stopping in front of the king. He reached out a hand and caressed Thorin’s cheek, running his fingers through the familiar black hair, and the king leaned to that touch.

'Why did you change your mind?' Bilbo asked.

Thorin looked at him, grasping the hobbit’s hand gently as if worried that he might ran away again. 'Because you said you loved me,' he whispered. 'You never said those words before. But yesterday... once you did, it felt like some veil was taken from me. I could see clearly again, I could see what really matters... and I thought you hated me because of what I said...'

Bilbo blinked, but he had... surely he had said it at least once before. But as he tried to remember when, he realized that Thorin was right, he hadn’t... he always assumed that the king knew, but he didn’t say it even during their bonding, he only said 'I promise' then...

'I love you,' he blurted out and Thorin gave a laugh. A wonderful, rich sound ...

The king bent down, embracing the hobbit firmly, 'I love you too...'

.....

'Bilbo.'

The hobbit stirred his hands in the grass, stretching and caressing the soft moss beneath his head. He rose a little, blinking against the sunlight illuminating a beautiful woman. The first time he saw her he couldn’t help but hate her...

It took one month for the dwarves from the Blue Mountains to come to the Lonely Mountain. One happy month that Bilbo and his companions were working hard, fashioning a proper Main gate and fixing the chambers that once belonged to their families. One glorious month full of happiness so profound that most of the time Bilbo could hardly believe that he wasn’t dreaming...

And then a huge company arrived. Solitary dwarves and whole families were approaching Thorin one by one where he was sitting on his throne, the Arkenstone’s shimmering light shining above him. They bowed to their king and were immediately taken by one of Bilbo’s companions to whose family they belonged, a cheerful laughter filling the air. Thus the hobbit saw Bombur’s wife and children; and Gloin’s wife and their little son who was staring at the king’s nephews with adoring expression; and Dori’s wife who ran first to hug Ori before kissing her husband passionately; and still more and more dwarves were coming...

But then a respectful silence fell as a dwarven lady entered the hall. She was so breathtakingly beautiful that even Bilbo stared at her. She looked like the lady from his dreams... with long and thick auburn hair floating around her gently, adorned with gold and emeralds. But even the gems couldn’t compare to the beauty of her green eyes - they sparkled with pure life. She wore dark green dress and cloak, embroidered with silver and as she walked gracefully to the throne, she looked like she was born to be a queen...

The hobbit shot an uneasy look at Thorin because just than the king stood up and descended from his throne, going to meet her. They met halfway trough the hall and the king chuckled, embracing the unknown woman while she laughed and hugged him back.

And Bilbo’s heart almost stopped beating. Who was she? Didn’t she see the blue ring on Thorin’s finger? And what was so special about her that it made Thorin leave his throne? He clutched his fists. Well, she was pretty... beautiful, really...

He could see the king whispering something to her and her eyes focusing on him, her expression unreadable. And then she suddenly looked at Bilbo, took a small breath and nodded upon something Thorin said.

She left the king where he was and walked towards the hobbit, her deep green eyes taking in every little detail of his appearance. Bilbo swallowed nervously, shifting his weight. Was... was there some sort of dwarf custom that he didn’t know about, saying that she could challenge him to a duel?

'So, you are Bilbo?' she asked, her voice just as melodic as the voices of the other dwarven women.

'Yes, my lady,' the hobbit nodded.

She laughed merrily, 'No need to call me lady, dear Bilbo. I am your sister now, too, so you may call me Dís.'

The hobbit opened his mouth three times before a word came out, 'S-sister?'

'Aye,' she nodded, 'Thorin is my brother and now that you are bonded with him, you are my brother too.' She glanced at the throne by which they were standing and then on the burglar again. She spun around on the spot, looking at the king disapprovingly, 'Thorin! How come there is no seat for Bilbo by your side?'

The king was looking at Bilbo adoringly but raised his eyes to his sister, 'There was no-'

'Time? Oh, but there was enough time to build a gate... Why, we cannot have him standing here like he’s just your mere lover. Right?' she turned to Bilbo again and put one arm around his shoulders protectively.

'R-right,' the poor hobbit stuttered, glancing nervously around them at the reaction of the other dwarves. But most of them seemed totally disinterested, their attention turned to their own families and those who were interested seemed to agree with Dís. Bilbo should sit by their king’s side.

'It will be done straight away,' Thorin muttered resignedly and pulled Bilbo from within his sister’s reach as she seemed very fond of hugging him. But she was busy hugging someone else then, because Fili and Kili swooped on her and she disappeared under them, the sound of their happy laughter resonating through the mountain...

.....

Yes, Bilbo liked Dís very much now. And he was very grateful too... He was worried that had she not accepted him so easily, the others wouldn’t either. But as it was, not a single dwarf in Erebor seemed to be bothered by the fact that their king chose a man.

'They’re in Dale, they’ll be here soon,' Dís said with a small smile.

She was looking at Bilbo, who jumped to his feet, not knowing whether to be happy that Thorin and Kili have returned, or be sad because of the reason they had left in the first place. Bilbo smiled a little as well, not knowing either.

'Thank you, Dís,' he said before disappearing down the tunnel. The same tunnel he had crept to meet Smaug, all that time ago. But the exit down there was blocked now and a new tunnel was built, leading to Thorin’s and his chambers, connecting them with the little garden Bilbo had planted on the small platform in front of the once hidden door.

He rushed trough their chambers, for once not stopping to admire how much light was pouring inside through the craftily hidden openings and almost running down the tunnels and halls, greeting several dwarves on his way, till he reached the Throne hall where Fili joined him; crown of the Erebor prince on his head. Together they walked to the Main gate, now open wide and stood with the others until their king and his company arrived.

Thorin rode first and Bilbo had to force himself not to run to meet him. But he had his duties now too, and running towards the king was not proper for someone in his position. It’s been so long since he last saw him... Were he not ill when Ori’s message came, he would have gone with him, and not a single day had passed without him wishing he had...

Once the king’s company arrived at the foot of the mountain an enormous cheer sounded and accompanied the dwarves till they reached the gate. Bilbo couldn’t hold himself any longer and run that few metres to Thorin, the king looking at him with love and relief, probably glad that the hobbit managed to stay safe and unharmed during his absence. He reached out and caressed Bilbo’s cheek tenderly, still on his pony.

'How have you been?' he asked, smiling, his eyes taking in every little detail of Bilbo’s face.

'Well,' the hobbit pressed a soft kiss to Thorin’s palm, 'but lonely. And you?' The king nodded slightly and straightened up, pulling his cloak a little aside, revealing a small bundle hidden there. Carefully he passed it to Bilbo and the hobbit blinked away the tears that filled his eyes.

'My dear little Frodo,' he whispered, moving the blanket a bit from the sleeping hobbit child, 'I wish we could meet under happier circumstances... But this is your home now and we will take care of you.'

*****

'I’m sure he’ll be perfectly fine,' Thorin said, blowing out the candle on his table and stretching a little as he stood up.

Bilbo was standing by the door, staring anxiously at the handle, 'You’re just saying that so that I’d be calm.'

The king chuckled, 'Of course I am, Frodo’s with Kili after all...'

The hobbit took a deep breath, ignoring Thorin’s comment. It will be all right, what could possibly happen? Kili was mature enough to look after a little boy, wasn’t he? He cared about Bilbo’s nephew very much, he wouldn’t let anything happen to him...

Bilbo looked at the toys he had picked up and was still holding. 'He won’t sleep without his dragon...' he muttered, looking at the toy Bofur made for Frodo more than a year ago. He nearly reached for the handle but Thorin’s arms were suddenly around him, turning him gently around.

The king’s lips brushed his. 'Stop worrying, Kili will take care of him. He’s just across the corridor, if anything happened, we would hear straight away...' He kissed him again. 'And I bet Fili’s there as well, he will keep an eye on them.'

Bilbo could feel his cheeks heating up. It’s been so long since he and Thorin had been alone during the night, because Frodo usually sneaked into their bed, falling asleep right between them. But the king was right, Frodo will be safe... and...

Thorin’s lips were caressing his neck, planting soft kisses on the tender skin there. Frodo’s toys fell out of Bilbo’s hands as he reached for the king’s shirt, pulling it up and over Thorin’s head impatiently. He pressed his lips to the dwarf’s chest, running his fingers trough the soft dark hair.

Thorin moaned, removing the hobbit’s clothes with incredible speed and skill. Bilbo giggled. The king could get him naked within few seconds without tearing or ripping any of his clothes now. It took him some time to learn that but he had enough chances to practise on many occasions... There was something strangely exhilarating about the way Thorin was taking his clothes off and Bilbo couldn’t explain what, but he loved it nonetheless.

He kissed the king, pressing their naked bodies together, burying both hands in the dwarf’s beard and Thorin breathed out sharply, sliding his hands to Bilbo’s backside and picking him up. He brought him to their bed and brushed his fingers over the hobbit’s hardness before laying him down and Bilbo’s eyes flew open with surprise, an embarrassing sigh of pleasure escaping his lips.

'You are easily distracted, my dear Bilbo,' Thorin chuckled, shifting on top of him, so that he could do it again.

'Only... when...' the hobbit panted, arching his back towards the king’s hand while trying to put down the only candle that was still flickering beside the bed, and succeeding only in burning his fingers.

Thorin blew out the candle, pressing lips to Bilbo’s fingers, 'Does it hurt?'

The hobbit shook his head, smiling, 'It’s nothing...' but then he moaned again as Thorin’s hand started to move over his length with ever-surprising tenderness. Bilbo let one of his hands fall to the king’s low back, feeling the muscles there move and tense... sometimes he dared to fondle Thorin’s backside, wondering in moments when desire and passion took complete control over him what it would be like if he ever took the king the way Thorin used to take him... But even when he was most aroused and willing to do everything, he still felt thrilled and ashamed at the same time at such idea. He could certainly never tell Thorin, but...

He let his fingers slide a bit lower, caressing a place he had never touched before... And Thorin moaned against his lips, a growl so deep building in his throat that it resonated through the hobbit’s body and made him shiver. He broke the kiss and looked at Bilbo. Oh dear, oh dear...

'I didn’t mean... I never meant... I thought... I mean I never thought about...' the hobbit stuttered, wishing he could turn back time or disappear, jerking his hand away from the dwarf quickly.

'It’s fine,' Thorin whispered, his voice still so deep... He kissed Bilbo again lightly but before he did, Bilbo could see it in the moonlight. The king was blushing. Could it be... did it ever cross his mind as well? The hobbit’s hand was trembling as he with another kiss slipped it on Thorin’s backside again, placing his fingers where they were before. He found the right spot, fondling it in a way Thorin always did to him, in small tender circles, and closing his eyes because he had never done anything more improper in his entire life.

Thorin’s hand left Bilbo's hardness and fell next to him, supporting his weight because he suddenly seemed too weak to hold his balance. He leaned his forehead on Bilbo’s chest, moaning and breathing unevenly with pleasure. And the hobbit dared to open his eyes, blushing with the sight he got; he had never seen Thorin reacting to his touches like this before and it was immensely arousing... The king’s whole body was covered in sweat, trembling lightly, his chest heaving as hot puffs of his breath brushed Bilbo’s skin, clutching the sheets by the hobbit’s sides firmly...

'Bilbo,' the king breathed out. He pressed his lips to the hobbit’s, kissing him so passionately that Bilbo stopped moving altogether, lost in his feelings. And he didn’t know how or when Thorin did it but suddenly the king’s fingers were caressing the hobbit‘s backside, coated in a familiar chilly substance.

It was Bilbo’s turn to moan with pleasure, his hands reaching for Thorin’s shoulders as one of the king’s fingers slid inside him. It was easier now, he knew how to relax and he wasn’t so worried anymore... He sucked lightly on Thorin’s lower lip, running his tongue over the soft wet skin there... He didn’t even realize how much he missed this, how much he wanted the king...

He felt Thorin sliding inside him with his hardness eagerly and tilted his head back, stifling a cry. This wasn’t their usual and tender love-making, this was sheer need for closeness, deep and overwhelming desire. Warmth started to spread through him... this was the most wonderful feeling of all, having Thorin part of him like this, feeling him with his whole body...

He brushed the hair from the king’s face, damp with sweat now and looked into his eyes.

'I love you, Thorin,' he whispered.

The king smiled. No matter how many times the hobbit said it, it never failed to make Thorin smile in the most endearing way. 'I love you back,' he said softly, reaching for Bilbo’s hand and kissing his fingertips tenderly. The moonlight fell on his ring, illuminating the same word that shimmered on Bilbo’s own ring. _Beloved_. He wanted the king to know and never doubt again, that he loved him with his whole heart. He wanted him to never forget that no one could ever love anyone more than he loved him...

Their lips met again, their bodies moving in wonderful harmony, filling them slowly with feeling of bliss and rapture.

Bilbo was panting loudly now, suddenly unable to care whether anyone else might hear them and Thorin wasn’t holding back either. Their movements were faster now, more impatient, more desirous. The king’s hand was back on the hobbit’s hardness, caressing him so skilfully that Bilbo was afraid that any moment now he might get lost in all the pleasure...

And just as he thought that, just as he couldn’t bear it any longer, Thorin’s fingers send him over the edge and at that precise moment he could feel him come inside him. They both cried out at the same time, reaching for the other, Thorin holding him like he was the most precious thing in his life. And Bilbo’s breath was taken away; a feeling of such profound contentment and happiness as never before washed over him, filling him with powerful surges of ecstasy. The butterflies in his stomach soared up, beating their wings equally happily because they knew... They were immortal, they were in a place where butterflies could never die...  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so fluffy I'm gonna die!!! *random quote, please ignore^^*
> 
> Thank you so very much for sticking with me for such a long time and reading the story, my lovely Thilbo Bagginshield and Dwori shippers! I know it's rather long but I hope you liked it :) 
> 
> Dedicated to my dear [sra_danvers](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sra_danvers/pseuds/sra_danvers) because without you it would have never come into existence^^ and a super special thank you to wonderful [thekeyholder](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder) because you are an amazing support^^ I love you two^^


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